October Blues
by mykelara
Summary: Sometime between S1 and S2 of Broadchurch... A story about Alec Hardy, his oldest friend, a shrimp, grapes and some angst... inspired by ktrosesworld's blog on tumblr.
1. Chapter 1 - He's Just A Shrimp

**A/N:** A recent post on ktrosesworld's blog on tumblr inspired this story about Alec Hardy, his oldest friend, a shrimp, grapes and of course some good old angst (because it wouldn't be one of my stories without it). Sometime between S1 and S2 of Broadchurch… same Alec as all my other stories, different point in time.

This is for KTROSESWORLD – a Thank You for her support, enthusiasm and sharing her adventures [and who probably has no clue where I'm going with this ;-)]. And it is also for HAZELMIST – who loves Duncan and will never look at a shrimp the same way. Couldn't do it without you – thank you!

* * *

 **October Blues**

 **Chapter 1**

" **He's Just A Shrimp"**

Hardy returned late to the Trader's after another aimless day teaching bored recruits and catering to Claire's requests. It had been a long week, but the weekend didn't hold any promises either. He was tired, not only physically, but tired of the whole routine. October had come and was almost gone and he had made no progress with Claire. How she ended up being his only human contact was still disgusting him, but it was his own fault. Ellie Miller was gone - gone with his help that she wasn't even aware he'd rendered - and he had no other people in this God forsaken town that he wanted to talk to.

When he saw Becca Fisher's cheery face, he wished not for the first time she wouldn't always make him leave his keys. Ever since he had collapsed in the hotel bathroom she made sure she saw him at least come in and out. In a way it was touching that she seemed concerned enough and he probably shouldn't complain, but it also made him feel like an invalid, unfit for life.

She plucked the keys off the hook, but didn't hand them over. A mischievous grin brightened up her already happy expression. Sometimes she was too much to bear. She winked at him.

 _For God's sake_ , what was she thinking now?

"You've got a visitor," she said, tilting her head towards the bar room.

"What?" He was annoyed. "Becca, we've talked about that. No journalists or any other -"

"I'm not a journalist, Alec. One of the few things I haven't tried out yet," a very familiar Scottish voice spoke behind him. A heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

Hardy closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. He turned around, bracing himself for what was to come. Before he could even acknowledge his oldest friend, Duncan had tugged him into a hearty embrace.

Becca chuckled. "Aren't the two of you cute? Didn't know you had such attractive friends, DI Hardy."

Hardy groaned and freed himself from Duncan's bear hug. Duncan smiled at Becca, left hand still resting on Hardy's shoulder. Then he leaned onto the counter. His right hand reached gracefully for Becca's and he breathed a kiss on it.

"Why, what a compliment from such a fair lady like yourself." His eyes sparkled and Becca giggled.

"She's dating the vicar, Duncan," Hardy stated drily.

Becca's head snapped up. "How...?"

Hardy rolled his eyes at her. "I used to be a detective, remember? If you want this to be a secret maybe you should let me have my own keys so that I don't always have to keep tabs on you."

"Keeping tabs on me? The idea was for it to be the other way around," she sighed.

"Oh, someone is keeping tabs on you, Alec. How exciting," Duncan joked.

Hardy glared at his friend. He opened his mouth to explain, but Becca beat him to it.

"Just making sure he's accounted for. An ambulance in front of the hotel while the paramedics are carrying out a dying guest isn't really good publicity." Her sarcasm almost masked her underlying concern.

Duncan's forehead pulled into a frown, but he refrained from saying anything. Hardy was sure he would hear about it later. Then Duncan's face relaxed into a mischievous grin.

"Alas, no romantic entanglement then for the intrepid detective. What a pity."

Hardy and Becca exchanged a glance and both of them blushed. It didn't go unnoticed.

"Ah, or maybe I was wrong? A love triangle between the vicar, the fair lady of the hotel and the detective. How intriguing!" Duncan underlined his words with rather theatrical gestures. Becca hid a grin.

This would have been a perfect moment for his heart to falter on him but of course it didn't do him that favor. He attempted to shove his friend away from the reception desk, which he failed miserably at considering how much bigger Duncan was.

"He's an actor, don't listen to him," Hardy growled. "Keys, please?" He wiggled his long fingers at her and she dropped them into his palm. But not without her lips parting into the widest grin he'd ever seen on her. Duncan took a deep bow and followed Hardy who was stalking away as swiftly as he could.

* * *

Duncan bounced up the stairs behind him, catching up quickly. The energy in his steps was almost insulting to the ever fatigued Hardy. Duncan was already half way up the next flight when he realized that Hardy had fallen behind. Hardy was leaning heavily against the rail and taking in some measured breaths. When his too slowly beating heart had caught up with the idea of needing to work harder to go up those damn stairs, Hardy trudged along.

Duncan opened his mouth, but one death stare later, he closed it. He kept quiet until they were in Hardy's room. Duncan closed the door, turned around and leaned against it, while Hardy fell onto the easy chair, panting and fishing through his pockets for his pills. He huffed when he realized he had forgotten to get some bottled water from Becca. He clumsily clambered to his feet and trudged over to the en-suite to fill a cup. He almost made it there before the vertigo got the better of him and he plopped down onto the bed.

Duncan still didn't say anything, looking pensively at his friend. He pushed himself off the door, walked to the sink and fetched Hardy a cup with water.

"Let me help you, please?" he said quietly.

Hardy stared at the proffered glass. His hands were trembling when he took it from his friend and swallowed his medication. He hadn't spoken to Duncan since he'd run from Sandbrook. So many phone calls went to voicemail and text messages were left untouched. Hardy felt ashamed that he had ignored his oldest friend who was like a brother to him.

"'M sorry, Duncan," he mumbled. There was no need to explain what he was apologizing for. They both knew it.

"It's all right, Alec." Duncan took the empty glass from him. "You look tired. Do you want to rest a bit before I take you out to dinner?"

Hardy looked up at him. He wasn't really hungry, like most evenings. Exhaustion and the ever present nausea caused by his medications usually robbed him of any urge to eat by the end of the day.

"Dunno. Don't have much of an appetite," he muttered under his breath.

Duncan sighed. "I take it the pills are still making you nauseated then?"

Hardy nodded and leaned back on the headboard. His eyelids were drooping shut. He was vaguely aware that Duncan put his legs up on the bed and pulled his shoes off his feet. He forced his eyes open.

"'M sorry, 's been a long day," he murmured, voice heavy with drowsiness.

"It's fine, Alec. Take a nap. I'll be here when you wake up."

* * *

And so he was. When Hardy jerked out of his restless sleep, coughing and sputtering, Duncan was right there to comfort him and help him through the dreadful moment of disorientation that often followed his rude awakenings. It didn't slip Hardy's attention that Duncan was checking his pulse, very well knowing what sudden arousal could do to his heart.

"M fine, Duncan," Hardy claimed. If one defines _'fine'_ as the questionable accomplishment of not scaring oneself to death upon waking. His sarcasm left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"I hate to burst your bubble, my friend, but you are far from being fine." Duncan sounded angry. "What the hell happened to you? When I saw you last you could at least walk up a few stairs without getting winded like that. And what was the hotel owner referring to when she mentioned an ambulance?"

Hardy pressed his lips together. He avoided Duncan's eyes and stayed mute.

"Don't give me that shit, Alec. I can sit here all night and wait until you give me an answer, I'm not going to leave." Duncan planted his large body on the easy chair and folded his arms over his chest. His eyebrows came up, underlining his challenge.

Hardy snorted and gave up. If there was one individual that was more stubborn than himself it was the man sitting opposite him.

"I collapsed in the hotel bathroom and Becca took me to the hospital," Hardy revealed defiantly. Duncan leaned forward and squinted at him.

"And?"

 _Damn him._ Duncan could always tell when Hardy wasn't letting on to something.

"About a month or so ago, I had a cardiac arrest while running down a suspect. Ended up in hospital again, signed myself out and finished the case. They kicked me out after."

Duncan sucked in some air and jumped to his feet. He was pacing in the small room, a bear trapped in a cage. His hands curled and uncurled and he was struggling to keep it together. Eventually he had calmed down enough to speak.

"Does your cardiologist know about this?" His voice was strained from the effort not to yell at Hardy.

Hardy swallowed. Duncan wasn't going to like the answer to this. "Erm… I don't really have one at the moment. Emily went on maternity leave and -"

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" This time Duncan couldn't hold himself back. He spun around. It took him one quick step to be in Hardy's face. "Tell me one good reason why I shouldn't have you committed for suicidal thinking right here and now," he hissed. "Because the shit that you're pulling is unbelievably idiotic, even for you."

Hardy dropped his gaze, unable to face his friend's anger. Deep inside he knew that Duncan was right. It was idiotic of him not to have sought the care of a different cardiologist while Emily wasn't available. The local GP was a nice fellow but had no clue how to manage his heart condition and barely could prescribe what Hardy needed.

"Ah, at least you know you're a moron. Bloody idiot. You could've killed yourself." Duncan had calmed down, voice soft with concern now. He sat down at the edge of the bed and found Hardy's gaze. "Look, I'm not here to yell at you, I'm here because I worry about you. You're like a brother to me and I couldn't stand the thought that one day you'd just be gone and I wouldn't even know what the hell happened."

Hardy didn't know what to say. He felt awful for pushing Duncan away. The irony of his hypocritical behavior didn't escape him. On one hand he was distraught over the fact that his daughter ignored all his calls, on the other hand he did the same to the few friends who hadn't left his side since the Sandbrook debacle. Duncan was right, he was a bloody idiot. He pulled himself up and got out of the bed.

"Do you still want to take me to dinner?" he asked shyly.

Duncan grinned. "'Course I do. I'm starving. Are there even any places to eat in this shit town? Why you had to come here still beats me. And a beach town on top of it. Thought you hate the sand and ocean and what was it that you said? Ah, the never-ending sky."

Hardy rolled his eyes at him. "Ocean's better than a river," he mumbled.

Duncan laughed. "Point taken."

Hardy stood up and before he could fight it off, Duncan pulled him into another hug. "Don't you dare bail out on me, do you hear me, Alec?" Duncan was as earnest as a person could be. His words carried a sentiment that Hardy had almost forgotten about.

He shook his head and with a cracking voice replied, "I'm trying not to."

Duncan released him and smiled, his green eyes mirroring his feelings. "Let's get some food into you, you look too skinny."

Hardy sighed and shrugged on his coat. This was going to be exhausting.

* * *

Hardy took Duncan to the one single Thai restaurant in Broadchurch. They didn't talk much after they ordered food. Duncan was waiting for a good moment but Hardy didn't give him one.

Hardy picked at his steamed vegetables with tofu and enviously eyed Duncan's stir fry with beef and shrimp. Sometimes he hated what his life had become. Truth be told, not only sometimes. Most of the time would be more accurate. Actually all the time. He threw down his fork in disgust at his own bleakness and let out a grunt.

Duncan frowned at him. "Your food doesn't look that bad. What's bugging you?"

Hardy's gaze snapped up and when he watched Duncan shove a big piece of fried shrimp in his mouth, he lost it. "Seriously? What's bugging me? My whole fucking life is what's bugging me. Can't even eat fucking fried shrimp without worrying my bloody heart will give out on me one day and when I get upset about it, then it actually becomes a moot point 'cause it'll go to shit anyway and kill me on the spot. My ex-wife is still shagging the guy she's cheated on me with for God knows how long and if I should ever even find another woman who would want to be with my sorry arse then yet again I couldn't even enjoy myself. I hate my job, I miss my child and I'm so fucking alone that I want to jump off the cliffs every time I stare at the horizon."

Hardy was shouting by the end. He was panting and right on cue his heart was going to shit, just to underscore his point. He fumbled with the pills, hands trembling too much to pop them out of the blister pack.

It took Duncan a few heart beats to unfreeze. His hand with the fork and another shrimp had halted somewhere on the way from his plate to his mouth. Self-consciously, he put it down and reached over to help Hardy get his medication where it needed to go. Hardy glared at the discarded shrimp as if he wanted to murder it.

"You know, it's not his fault that your life is rather shitty right now. He's just a shrimp," Duncan dared to comment. It was a bold move considering Hardy's desire to actually hurt something or someone. Or maybe it wasn't. After all the only thing that Hardy was able to injure these days was himself.

He sighed deeply and scrubbed down his face with his hands. "Why did you come, Duncan?"

"You didn't answer my calls," Duncan replied. Hardy knew him too well. There was something else.

"Why now?"

Duncan reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope which he placed in front of Hardy. Hardy squinted at the writing while fishing out his glasses. It was addressed to Geena, Duncan's wife. At her law office address. Hardy had a bad feeling about it. He pulled out the sheets of paper, eyeing them suspiciously. As he suspected it was from Tess' solicitor. He skimmed through the writing and then tossed the letter on the table. His glasses followed and he rubbed his eyes with his index finger and thumb.

"Alec, what happened there? Why did you not pay the child support?" Duncan asked gently.

Hardy shook his head, too emotional to answer. The solicitor had stated they would take him to court to revoke the joint custody rights for Daisy as he had failed his obligation of financially supporting his child. He didn't even know that had happened. He was racking his brain why the money might not have reached Tess. He had made sure that all his ongoing payments were transferred and set up correctly when his source of income had changed this month. The child support had been the first he fixed.

"I don't understand. It should have come through," he mumbled more to himself than to anyone else.

"Geena talked to this solicitor and asked him why they didn't just try to get in touch with you before dragging the whole thing to court. He said that Tess did but you ignored her calls. Is there any truth to that?" Duncan asked carefully.

Hardy's eyes widened. "I would never ignore her calls. What if it was about Daisy?"

He pulled out his phone and started scrolling through his call history. When he saw the eight missed calls and voicemails, his mouth gaped open. He would have sworn on the life of his daughter that he couldn't recall any of them. He dropped his phone like a hot potato. Duncan was scrutinizing him and picked it up, frowning when he saw what Hardy had just discovered.

"So what is this then?"

"I dunno. I swear I have no knowledge of these calls," Hardy defended himself meekly.

"There are how many - eight? Alec, how can I believe that you missed that many if it wasn't intentional?" Duncan didn't sound as patient any more.

Hardy buried his face in his hands. "Maybe I'm just losing my mind," he breathed into his palms. Between Claire's demands, his chronic sleep deprivation due to the never ending nightmares, his failing heart and the bleakness of the rest of his life, it wouldn't surprise him.

"Alec, are you still not sleeping?" Duncan's hand had found its way onto Hardy's shoulder. Hardy bopped his head up and down, unable to speak. "Same nightmares?" Again a nod.

Duncan sighed. "We paid the child support."

"You did what?" Anger was making Hardy's voice tremble.

"To get the solicitor off your back and avoid another court hearing. We set it up through our account for now."

Hardy was so furious he could barely think straight. He pulled out his wallet, tossed twenty pounds on the table to cover his bill and stormed out the door. By the time he had ran down two streets, his heart caught up with him and punished his rash actions. A burning pain whipped through his chest and swept him of his legs, leaving him breathless and crumpled against the wall of the building next to him. He barely registered the strong hands that helped him up and dragged him into a car. The world around him went black.

* * *

 **A/N:** For those of you who are not familiar with my other stories and my close-to-canon-but-still AU story "A Million Holes Poked In The Soul"… Duncan is Alec's oldest friend who he has known since they were teenaged boys. In MHPS Part 1 Alec is trying to take Daisy to Duncan's wedding, in MHPS Part 2 Duncan lends Alec his support. For those who might need a visual you might picture Gerard Butler in this role, I know it works for hazelmist ;-)

And don't get too upset about the cliffhanger… the next chapter will be up in a day or two…

Oh and for those who wonder how Ellie Miller fits into this… be patient, you'll see… ;-)


	2. Chapter 2 - I'm Bigger Than You

**A/N:** As promised the next chapter… thank you everyone for reading and commenting! Much appreciated. I hope you enjoy the continuation.

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

" **I'm Bigger Than You"**

The familiar beeping sound of a monitor filtered into his consciousness. The burning sensation in his arm was welcomed as it told him his usual medications were dripping into his failing body, saving him once again. For what purpose he wasn't so sure about, but he shoved the thought away. He could hear Duncan talking to someone but there was no second voice. He forced his eyes open. His friend was on the phone.

"No, Ed. He didn't talk to her... I know. That's how I reacted too. Do you have her number?... All right, text me then and I'll get in touch with her... I dunno, I'd say worse than when he left. He can't even walk up a flight of stairs... Not very well. He ran off on me and collapsed by the time I had caught up with him... Yup, that's where we are right now... No need for shocking this time, did okay with IV medications. I'm waiting for him to wake up."

That was when Duncan caught Hardy staring at him. He smiled, stepped up to him and put a hand on his arm. He was still on his phone. "Sleeping beauty just woke up. Let me get off, unless you want to talk to him?... Might be right about that, he's already scowling at me. I'll keep in touch, Ed. Bye for now." Duncan pocketed his phone and pulled up a chair.

It was dark in the room but Hardy recognized the observation unit of Dorset County Hospital. He sighed inwardly. He had reached the stage where he could identify the bloody hospital by its ceiling tiles. _Spectacular_ , just what he needed. He tried to sit up but Duncan's hand on his arm was firm, pressing him down on the bed.

"If you think you can just walk out like you always do, you're wrong," Duncan growled quietly as to not wake up the other patient in the room.

"It's my choice," Hardy argued.

"Not while I'm around. I'm going to make sure you're being seen by a cardiologist. You can try fight me, but just in case you don't remember…" - and Duncan bent down to be close to Hardy's ear - "I'm bigger than you." He poked Hardy in the chest, underscoring his threat. Hardy rolled his eyes and pressed his lips together.

* * *

When he met Duncan in prep school these were the first words Duncan had said to him. The boys were fighting over a spot under a tree on the school grounds. It was Hardy's favorite place to hide and read and it turned out that the new kid in town, Duncan, had picked out the exact same location as the best spot to watch the girls during PE class.

On that day, Hardy had had a miserable experience during lunch hour, being teased as usual and harassed by the school bullies, and all he wanted to do was have a few moments of peace and quiet. When he walked up to his spot, it was taken. By this tall and broad shouldered dark-haired kid that he had never seen in school before. He told the kid, that this was his spot and that he should bugger off. The kid just looked him up and down and grinned. _'I'm bigger than you. What're ya gonna do about it?'_ The challenge was there and for once, Hardy had had it with being pushed around by everyone. Against his better judgment, he charged at the much larger boy. Duncan might have been stronger but he wasn't faster. Before Duncan could react, Hardy had given him a bloody nose. They were rolling through the grass, interlocked in a struggle until Hardy couldn't breathe any more and begged the other kid to let go, while he was gasping for air. His heart was pounding in his chest. Duncan must have realized that something was off because he rolled off of him and helped him sit up.

When Hardy had caught his breath and felt better, Duncan stuck out his hand. _'Duncan McCormick. You fight well for such a scrawny guy.'_ Hardy had stared at the proffered hand but then took it. _'Alec Hardy.'_ And after a few moments of consideration he added, _'We could share the spot. 'S got enough room for a big guy and a scrawny one. If you'd like?'_ Duncan had smiled and wiped at his bloody nose. He nodded and pulled Hardy up to a stand. They walked away together. The next day at lunch nobody dared to bully Hardy while Duncan was telling him about that red-haired girl he'd met in dance class.

* * *

"Fine. I'll stay. But only overnight," Hardy grumbled.

Duncan grinned from one ear to the other. Hardy had to admit, that he wouldn't have been up for leaving anyway. The brief struggle with Duncan had already set his heart off again, leaving him breathless and he was grateful for the oxygen whistling into his nose. Maybe it wasn't the worst idea to see the cardiologist before he left. He closed his eyes.

"Did you tell Ed about why you're here?" Hardy asked, voice low and hollow.

"Aye, I did. He was the only one who knew where you were staying."

Duncan sighed. "Alec, you have to make some changes. This isn't healthy."

Hardy snorted and opened his eyes. "Seriously? You wanna talk to me about healthy? Here, right now? While I'm hooked up to all this shite?" - he tugged on the cables that were connecting him to the monitor - "Because I really don't see the point."

"And that's exactly the problem, you idiot," Duncan hissed at him, voice getting louder with exasperation.

A nurse came over. "Sir, I'm sorry but if the two of you can't be quiet we'd have to ask you to leave. It's after visiting hours and we made an exception but if you're disturbing the other patients, we can't have you here."

Hardy glared at the nurse and was about to open his mouth, when Duncan shushed him up with his hand and piercing stare. Then he turned to the nurse and put on his most charming smile which hardly anyone could ever resist.

"I'm sorry. I promise we will be quiet. He needs to rest anyway, right?" The nurse nodded and Duncan's smile grew even wider. "Thank you for being so understanding and letting me help to make sure that my dear friend here doesn't do anything stupid like he did in the past. Your kindness is very much appreciated." The nurse blushed and hid a shy smile.

"Okay, as long as you are not talking you can stay." Duncan's smile lingered while she walked out. However, when he turned to Hardy it was gone.

He moved close to Hardy's ear and whispered, "Don't think that you can get out of this conversation. I'll shut up for now because I want to be able to keep an eye on you. Can't be trusted. Go to sleep now, and I mean it."

His green eyes were boring into Hardy's. Hardy resisted a few heart beats, then acknowledged defeat with a nod. He was sure he wouldn't be able to sleep. He was wrong.

* * *

Her body was weighing heavily on his arms and her head was lolling back, dragging her long hair through the murky water. Arms and legs were dangling and the rain dripped off of them. He was shaking with the cold in his bones and he was so exhausted that each step that he took was a struggle in its own. The river bank seemed to move farther and farther away and when he broke down on his knees and her limp body slid off of his arms, it was but a small sliver on the horizon. Right before he went under the water, unable to save himself and her, he saw her small shape drift away from him, her hazel eyes that were so much like his staring dead back at him. He tried to reach her but it was too late. "I'm sorry, darlin'" he sobbed, sucking in the cold liquid into his lungs. He sputtered and coughed, choking and drowning and there was nothing he could do.

Light suddenly hit his eyes, accompanied by a loud blaring alarm and the noise of people. He tried to focus on his surroundings but could not get his bearings until a soothing voice filtered through his confusion.

"Alec, look at me! Take a deep breath. It was just a dream. I've got you, I'm right here with you." A hand was holding his shoulder and another brushed his sticky hair out of his face.

"Daisy…," Hardy croaked.

"Daisy is all right. It was just a dream, Alec. She's fine." Duncan's arms folded around Hardy and he wrapped him into a tight embrace, rocking him gently. "She's fine," he whispered into Hardy's ear over and over again until Hardy's sobs quieted down.

The monitor stopped alarming when Hardy finally caught his breath, and when it sunk in where he was and that it yet again had only been a dream. Duncan let go of him, resting his green eyes on his pale features. He wasn't hiding the sorrow he felt for his friend and in a way Hardy was grateful for that. It had been a while since someone helped him come out of the tight grip of his nightly horror show. It made a difference. It also made a point of emphasizing how lonely he really was and in sudden rush of regret he wished he'd never come to Broadchurch, never had embarked on this insane plan of keeping a close eye on Claire Ripley. Too late now, like so many things in his life.

They were alone in the room, without any hospital staff and the other patient had been moved during the commotion surrounding Hardy's sudden arousal from sleep.

Duncan helped him lie back down on his pillow. Hardy still hadn't said a word. He probably should, but his throat felt tight and he lacked the ability to put his emotions out into the open. They sat in silence for a while, until Duncan eventually took it upon himself to start a conversation.

"Do you still get them every night?"

Hardy swallowed. "Aye."

"Is it always Daisy?"

"Not always, but more often than not. It's been getting more frequent." He let his eyes trail out the window, the rain drops blurring with the tears in his eyes. "I miss her so much, Duncan. I haven't talked to her since…," his voice broke and he couldn't finish his sentence.

"Why don't you tell her the truth, Alec? Why uphold that stupid lie?" Duncan asked, kindly but not without firmness.

Hardy snorted. "She won't even answer my calls. How am I supposed to do that then, ey?" Frustration was seeping into his voice. "She lives with her mother. I can't jeopardize whatever stability she might have regained since we split up. Besides Tess has a word in this too."

A deep furrow etched itself into Duncan's forehead. "You owe nothing to Tess. She screwed you over royally and was happy to let you take the fall for it. So don't get me started. If you want to tell your daughter that you're not a lying, cheating fucked up failure then you should just do it."

Hardy flinched. "Did you really have to put it that way?" Daisy had thrown those words at him when they talked the last time. Talked was probably the wrong phrase to describe their very one-sided conversation. Daisy had yelled at him, insulted him and then ended the call with a passionate "I hate you" and hung up the phone. He had been too stunned and ill at the time to seize the opportunity to defend himself. And even if he had had the guts to tell his daughter the truth right there and then, would it have changed her anger towards him? He was still a liar and a failure.

"Alec, you can't let your life be dictated by the past. And you have to stop acting like you're going to die soon," Duncan reprimanded him.

"Seriously? And why is that? 'Cause I might, you know," Hardy growled back, petulance wiping away all reason.

Duncan hit the mattress. "Enough, Alec," he exclaimed.

Hardy speculated that if he hadn't been lying in a hospital bed, Duncan might actually have slapped him. His friend's face was bright red and now he was the one taking in some deep calming breaths. He stood abruptly.

"I'm going to get some tea for myself and see where that cardiologist is at. I've had enough of your shitty attitude and your self-pity. You complain that Daisy doesn't talk to you while you ignore all of your friends who are worried about you and then you dare to whine about how lonely you are. I came because I want to help you, but when I see you like this I'm beginning to believe that maybe you don't want to be helped. You can spend some time thinking about what I said and when I come back I expect an answer that will satisfy me more."

Hardy stared at him, scowling and screaming inside. He didn't want him to leave, didn't want to be alone, especially not in this hospital room of all places. But he couldn't say a word as he had no recourse to reign in his inner turmoil. All he could do was nod.

Right before Duncan left the room, he halted and without looking at Hardy, he said, calmer now, "You know how much you mean to me, Alec. And I would do anything for you but if you don't make at least a small step to meet me, what am I supposed to do? Don't do that to me and yourself, please." And he walked out the door.

Hardy rolled over, hugging his pillow. Again the rain drops on the window were blurring while silent tears were running down his cheeks, getting caught in the beard he hadn't been bothering to even trim for God who knows how long now. He so wanted to make that step but more and more it seemed he had forgotten how to.

His life had fallen apart so quickly that he didn't only get broken up in the process but also left behind somewhere on that rocky path, unable to deal with all the overwhelming events and emotions. There were days when he suspected that maybe his brain had indeed taken a hit during one of the many times his heart had failed him because he wasn't able to wrap his mind around any of it, let alone understand or try to find a way out. Instead he had focused his life on the one thing that he might be able to fix, solving the Sandbrook case. But after being close to Claire for several months now and only learning that she was a seriously unstable individual yet still surprisingly good at hiding what happened that night, he didn't even believe he could do that any longer.

On some days, he wanted to take care of his heart, but then it all seemed so hopeless, and as long as he kept quiet and didn't put too much strain on himself, he could manage. He had never talked to a cardiologist after he had checked himself out the morning after collapsing in the boatyard, but previous experience told him that he probably would have to wait at least six to eight weeks for them to consider doing the operation. He couldn't bear the thought of going for it without having ever talked to Daisy again. He doubted that he would be able to agree to it as long as this was still an issue.

Maybe Duncan was right and it was time to tell her. He could make the trip to Sandbrook and talk to her in person. The thought of that alone robbed him of the very air to breathe and he stopped himself from going down that path. He might not make it through a conversation with her and what good would that do? It was a vicious cycle with no way out. He felt trapped, cornered by life and his poor decisions that lead him to where he was now.

The monotonous sound of the rain tapping against the window combined with the beeping of the monitor for once reflecting a steady heartbeat lulled him into drowsiness. Caught up in his circular and tiring thoughts, he drifted in and out of sleep until he heard Duncan come back. As soon as his friend stepped up to his bed, Hardy opened his eyes and held Duncan's gaze.

"Please, help me," was all he could get out.

Duncan sat down at the edge of his bed, took his hand and smiled. "That's why I'm here, Alec."

* * *

 **A/N:** We all can use a friend like Duncan now and then. And Alec sure needs someone to set is head straight and Duncan has his work cut out for him. Next chapter should be up in a day or two. And maybe after that ktrose can figure out where it's going and what made me think of the story ;-)


	3. Chapter 3- Only A Guest To Your Own Life

**A/N:** Thanks again everyone for reading and commenting. Alec meets the cardiologist… I should say it's not a happy conversation…

* * *

" **Only A Guest To Your Own Life"**

The cardiologist had had his fair warning about his new patient and was firm right from the start. Hardy didn't care so much for the stiff attitude but he had no one but himself to blame. The ground rules were laid out and one glare from Duncan made him shut up before he could even come up with a sarcastic remark. When his new doctor relayed a message from Emily Abbott, his former cardiologist, Hardy's ears perked up. It was simple - listen and follow the instructions if he wanted her back after her maternity leave. He sat silently at the edge of his bed while Dr. Davis examined him. When he pulled over a chair Hardy knew he was in for a long talk.

"Mr. Hardy, do you want your friend to be here?"

Hardy exchanged a glance with Duncan whose face was neutral, giving Hardy the chance to opt for privacy.

"No, it's all right. I don't mind," he said hesitantly, trying out the idea of having someone around to share the bad news.

"I'm going to be very frank with you, Mr. Hardy, because Dr. Abbott told me that works best to deal with your somewhat stubborn attitude."

Hardy let out a grunt. Another glare from Duncan saved his new doctor from the obligatory eye rolling that usually accompanied Hardy's general feeling of exasperation.

"I reviewed your previous records and the data we have from this admission. It's been about five weeks since your last cardiac arrest and it seems you haven't recovered much since then. Dr. Abbott relayed her concerns about the safety of the pacemaker procedure and I have to agree with her. You're in no condition to go through with it right now."

It was just as Hardy had suspected. He found himself back where he had been several times already over the past year and a half. Willing but not able to. He scrubbed his hands over his face. Duncan's green eyes didn't leave him for one split second, and Hardy couldn't handle the compassion in them. He didn't deserve any of it. Procrastination and poor choices had led him to this day and now he had no way out.

"How long this time then?" he sighed.

"Obviously you need it to be done as soon as possible but the risks of the actual procedure outweigh the benefits. At least right now. I would say at least another three to four weeks but we'd have to assess you again before we can make it definitive."

Hardy nodded, mouth slightly open. He knew the drill. More tests, more waiting, more bureaucracy. Duncan didn't though.

"What do you mean three to four weeks? What if he has another attack in between? He could be dead by then," Duncan blurted out, concern washing away any tact he might have had.

"Oh, thanks for that. Who's talking about dying now?" Hardy grumbled.

The doctor looked from one to the other, trying his best to keep a straight face.

"It seems, Mr. Hardy, you are not surprised about this?"

"No. I've heard it before. Thought you talked to Emily?" He sounded snarkier than he wanted but the whole situation was grating on his nerves. He was done. The meeting with the cardiologist hadn't brought anything new. He stood up, pulling the leads off his chest.

"What do you think you're doing?" Duncan asked annoyed.

"I'm leaving. It's the same story. What else is there to talk about? I'll come to the follow up appointment and -"

"I'd like to discuss the progression of your heart failure with you, Mr. Hardy, and what we're going to do about it. How's that for a new story?" Dr. Davis interrupted him, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Hardy stopped dead in his tracks. Last time he had seen Emily, shortly before he had left Sandbrook, his heart had recovered fully from his last major incident, just like it had every time up until then. Granted it had taken him longer, and he had noted that he was more fatigued after arriving in Broadchurch, but he had attributed it to the stress Danny's case and juggling Claire at the same time was putting on him. And then after the boatyard and being kicked off the force he stopped paying attention. Or better said, ignored everything.

Duncan sucked in some air. "Heart failure? Is that why he can't walk up a flight of stairs without having to catch his breath?"

"Now that's interesting," the doctor commented while taking notes. "Would you care to elaborate on that?"

"Yes, Alec, would you?" Duncan echoed Dr. Davis' words with an underlying sarcastic tone.

Hardy sighed and plopped back onto the bed. He gave up. Fighting it was too tiring. "Fine. I haven't exactly been able to exert myself a lot since my last hospital stay. It wasn't great before but since then it's been worse."

"Go on," the cardiologist prompted.

Hardy squirmed. "Erm... I can't make it up the stairs to my room without needing to stop. Before it just exhausted me and at times provoked an attack. Now, I need to pause and wait 'till I have enough air. I can maybe walk half a mile which is similar to what happened before, but instead of getting better it's getting worse. I'm short of breath a lot and sweat a lot. Eating tires me out and I have no appetite. And I'm so _exhausted_ all the time..." His words came out faster and faster, as he was confessing to everything that ailed him.

"Can you sleep lying flat? Do you feel like you're drowning at night?" The doctor only looked up from his notes when he heard Hardy's sarcastic snort.

"Do you?" He tilted his head, face curious.

"You're not serious are you? What did Emily actually tell you?" Hardy snapped, face all scrunched up.

When Dr. Davis looked more and more confused and Hardy decided to sulk, Duncan jumped in, feeling pity for the seemingly clueless doctor. Or maybe it was for Hardy after all.

"My friend here suffered a near drowning event a couple years back while rescuing the body of a murdered child from a river. Since then he has frequent nightmares of drowning and choking on water. So yes, he does feel like that, but for other reasons maybe?"

"Oh. I see." The doctor paused for a moment, then persisted, "So, is it getting worse though? And do you sleep flat, yes or no?"

Hardy exchanged a glance with Duncan. Then he ducked his head and said subdued, "Yes, it's been getting worse. And no I can't sleep flat any longer, maybe not for a couple weeks now."

"Hm. Not surprising." The doctor put down the chart. He leaned forward and made sure to hold Hardy's gaze. "Mr. Hardy, from your records it seems you probably already had a very mild degree of heart failure when you last saw Dr. Abbott. By the time you got admitted here the first time it had gotten worse, that's why we wanted to keep you. After the cardiac arrest about a month ago your heart function never really recovered, if anything it got worse. This is serious and you can't ignore it. And I'm not saying this because I realize how stubborn you are but because your body won't allow you to. If we don't help you with that now you'll be in rather bad shape soon."

"I don't want to take those pills again, the ones that make me go to the bathroom every half hour," Hardy whined. Duncan frowned at him. Then he turned to the doctor, smiling and putting a stalling hand on his friend's arm.

"He will do everything you say and I'm going to make sure of it," he assured the physician quietly, not leaving any room for doubt that that was what would happen.

"Great. Then let's go over the other stuff first before we discuss medications." The doctor mustered all the enthusiasm he could.

"Other stuff?" Hardy's voice pitch shifted with the annoyance.

"Considering the progression of your condition and the risk to trigger an episode, I would strongly recommend avoiding any exertion until your heart function improves. Move your bedroom, climbing stairs that you can avoid is unnecessary. If you feel like going for short walks I'd say that would be okay but watch for when you get too tired or short of breath. No stress and I will call your work to put you on medical leave until -"

"Absolutely not," Hardy interjected vehemently. "I'm not giving you permission to do that. I'm not even on active duty. I need that stupid job. It would drive me crazy if I had nothing to do all day long." And if he didn't have an excuse to leave the cottage and Claire. He'd also never be able to pay child support, something he could not let happen.

"Alec, be reasonable. If he -"

"I said no. I'm not doing that. I'm not giving up working. I can't. Why doesn't anyone _listen_?" He stood suddenly with the anger growing in his stomach. Desperate tears were stinging his eyes and his hands clenched into fists.

"Don't be stupid. You don't even like the job. You said so yourself," Duncan argued.

Hardy just shook his head. Yes, he hated the teaching job, but it was all that he had left. He was a person with needs and if they took away the last bit of self-respect and control he had, there was nothing. Duncan had already humiliated him by paying for his child and now he wanted to take away his last bit of dignity. He spun around, bracing his arms on the bed and breathing heavily, facing away. He couldn't look at them.

A gentle hand came to rest on his shoulder blade. "It's all right, Mr. Hardy. Don't worry. I hear you. It's important for you to be self-sufficient and keep that job. Please believe me, I'm on your side. I'm here to work with you until your doctor who you trust comes back. I've talked to her for a long time and she told me a few things she thought I should know and before you worry, I very much respect your privacy. You're safe with me."

"Don't take it away from me, please," Hardy muttered just when his legs gave out under him and the doctor gently guided him back onto the bed. Together with Duncan they maneuvered him to lie down again. He was shaking, trying to suppress the urge to cough. He lost the battle and ended up scaring Duncan when he finally choked up some pink frothy mucous.

The doctor frowned. "How long has this been going on? And please be honest." He connected Hardy back to the monitor, tucked the oxygen cannula back in his nose and rang the call bell.

Hardy struggled to have enough air to answer. "About a week or so."

"And you didn't seek medical care?" Duncan exclaimed incredulously, staring down Hardy who shrunk into his pillow.

"Mr. McCormick, I don't think scolding your friend is exactly helpful at this very moment. How about you go and get a cup of tea?"

Duncan opened his mouth to protest, but the doctor's stern glance sent the message home and he left the room.

"I hope you don't mind me asking him to leave but there are a few things I have a feeling you might want to hear in private first, especially as he's new to this and you aren't. I think he needs a moment to digest some of the information."

Hardy pressed his lips together and nodded. They waited in silence for the nurse to deliver the medication the doctor had ordered.

"Dr. Abbott told me that last winter she had you on treatment for heart failure which you more or less recovered from."

"Aye," came Hardy's monosyllabic answer. He wasn't sure where this was going but he didn't like the expression on the doctor's face. It was too nice. Usually a sign for bad news to follow.

"Your heart isn't going to recover fully this time. It's been affected too much by the last arrest." He paused to let it sink in.

Hardy looked away out the window. The rain had stopped but the light remained grey. They finally had reached the point Emily had been worried about.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hardy."

Hardy mumbled a "Thank you" and studied the loose thread on his blanket. He picked at it despite his fingers trembling. It unraveled in front of him and suddenly there was this gaping hole that he didn't know how to fix.

The doctor put a steadying hand on his. "You can make it through this and with the right treatment you'll improve so that you finally can get that pacemaker implanted. Your heart is bad but not that bad that we can't do anything about it."

"Do you think I could ever get my job back? As a detective, I mean," Hardy asked, voice breaking.

The doctor hesitated. "To be honest with you, I don't know. But I think there is a possibility and it should be a goal to work towards."

To Hardy that sounded like a no and the light at the end of the tunnel faded. He closed his eyes.

"Mr. Hardy, there is one more thing Dr. Abbott mentioned."

Hardy sighed again. "The anti-depressants?"

"Yes. She asked me to make sure you're okay and don't need help. She was more worried about that than about the heart."

Hardy's lips curled up in a wry smile. "She would be, wouldn't she? I'm all right. My mood's not been the greatest but to be frank with you the news about the heart failure isn't unexpected. I'm not an imbecile who can't read the signs."

"You just chose to ignore them," the doctor interjected.

Hardy huffed. "My life hasn't been the greatest lately. Sometimes ignoring things is the only way to stay afloat. I'm not going to jump off those bloody cliffs but I have thought about it. I'm not going to lie. I'm very much alone and that doesn't help. That's why I want to keep that bloody job so I'm not left with myself all day long."

The doctor's pensive eyes rested on him for a while. "If you talk to our psychiatrist and he reassures me that you're safe, I'm fine with that. I'm not exactly trained in non-physical matters of the heart. I can help you keep that job though if you cooperate."

Hardy groaned. "Seriously, a shrink? Even Emily never made me do that."

"Precisely. And that's why she strongly recommended it to me."

Hardy looked up. "She did?" The doctor nodded. "Fine. Send your shrink, I'll talk with him. Can I leave then?" He was antsy to get out of the hospital, back to pretending things were still the same.

"You can try but I doubt you would get very far until we tune you up a bit more. Just to reiterate, your heart is barely making it right now. I have you on a few drips and I'm going to start you on a new medication called digoxin that will help but needs careful adjustment as it can be rather toxic if used wrong. I'd say it'll take maybe two or three days at least." The doctor got up, patting him on the arm.

"I can't miss work," Hardy was quick to reply. He really couldn't. That was part of the deal they had offered him. If they had any indication that his heart wasn't holding up, he'd be out.

"I can't keep you here but if you want to get better you should stay."

"Of course he's staying. Not leaving until you say he's good to go," Duncan growled, leaning against the door frame.

Hardy got angry again. "The two of you don't get it. If I miss work 'cause of my heart condition, I'm out. Finished. Non-negotiable. _I can't lose that job,_ " he all but shouted. Unfortunately the ensuing coughing fit didn't help his cause and he weakly fell back onto his pillows. And then he gave up. He had no fight left in him. His life sucked and nothing ever seemed to work out in his favor any more.

"Ach, fuck it. I'm so done with all this shite, do whatever you want," he threw at them in between heavy breaths. "Why am I even still arguing, it's futile 'cause life's a pile of horseshit and I'm gonna die anyway and no one will care, so..."

This time Duncan _did_ slap him in the face. His large shoulders were heaving with the fury he was holding back and his voice was trembling. "If you ever say that again, it won't be your heart condition that takes you out. You're such a bloody moron."

Hardy rubbed his cheek and stared wide eyed at his oldest friend. He rarely had seen Duncan get this upset and it impressed him enough to shut up. He shot a sideways glance at the doctor who looked a bit pale around the nose. _Bollocks_ , now they scared him off too.

After clearing his throat, the doctor found courage to speak. "I guess maybe I should have mentioned that we don't have to give a reason to your work why you're not coming in. Patient confidentiality, you know."

"Oh," Hardy and Duncan said at the same time. Hardy felt like an idiot, his ears burning. Judging from the redness on Duncan's face his friend shared a similar sentiment.

"I'm going to leave the two of you alone. It seems you might want to clear up a few things. I'll get things going for what we've talked about, Mr. Hardy. And I'll come back to discuss the digoxin with you after the nurse gives you the first dose." Despite all his patience, it seemed the doctor couldn't get out of the room fast enough. Hardy wasn't sure if it was in his imagination or if the doctor really mumbled something about hating to owe someone.

"You slapped me."

"You deserved it."

They stared each other down until Hardy was the first to look away.

"Thought so," Duncan stated drily. "Here." He threw the local paper onto the bed.

"What do you want me to do with that?"

"No stairs, remember? Might as well use this as an opportunity to find a place to live. Or do you want me to tell your lovely hotel owner that you need to move rooms?" The challenge was unmistakable.

"I don't care where I live, Duncan," Hardy retorted, throwing the paper back at him.

"Stop being so stupid. You've lived out of a suitcase now for how long? As you don't seem to want to leave this God forsaken place, it's time for you to make a home for yourself." Duncan was still disgruntled over Hardy's stubbornness.

"Seriously? A home? Why? There is no one to make a home with or for. The only woman who came close to being nice to me lately hates my guts 'cause I took her job and arrested her pedophile of a husband and my daughter hates me even more. I really don't see the point."

Duncan sat down on the bed. He found Hardy's eyes. "It's for you, Alec. You can't continue living as if you are going to die tomorrow. You have to start taking care of yourself and finding a place to stay is part of that. It doesn't have to be fancy or big, you don't need to get your own stuff, but somewhere that's not just a hotel room as if you're only a guest to your own life. Please?"

Duncan's plea was sincere and something in Hardy broke. His fingers rubbed over his eyes and he struggled to keep his composure. He opened his mouth but closed it again, not knowing what to say. Duncan knew him well enough.

"I'll take that as a yes. I've already marked a few things down and as soon as you're out of here, we'll go look at places." Duncan's enthusiasm was almost infectious enough to lighten Hardy's mood. His eyes fell on something else that judging by the doodles around it had caught Duncan's attention - the local Harvest festival.

Eyeing it suspiciously, Hardy inquired, "You're not planning on going to that, are you?"

"Absolutely. Dancing on the cliffs - who could say no to that?" Duncan grinned from one ear to the other.

"I'd consider that unnecessary exertion," Hardy scoffed.

"Oh, come on, a waltz or two hasn't hurt anybody." Hardy threw the newspaper at his friend who caught it easily, laughing now.

"If you're out in time, we're going. Call it rehab if you like."

Hardy groaned. Sometimes he hated his friend.

* * *

 **A/N:** Full disclosure – I own stock in a tissue paper company – nah, just kidding. But seriously, for those of you who are not familiar with my take on Alec's heart condition, this might have come a bit out of the blue. For those who have read some of my other stuff and possibly even discussed it with me, I have my ideas about why he earned the nickname "shit face" in S2 even more than in S1. He sure wasn't a healthy man in S1 but compared to S2, Hardy looked like a spring chicken during the time they worked on Danny's case – until his heart gave finally out on him. So this is about a month or so later and here we are. Also, I never quite bought into the "no-more-broken-heart" thing, but I'm not getting into it again (and bore people to death). I hope you can forgive me for all the heart ache. Alec's getting help after all.

Next chapter should be up soon… it features grapes and what actually inspired this whole story ;-)


	4. Chapter 4 - It's Rather Blue

**A/N:** Thanks again for reading, commenting and not throwing things at me. You might after this chapter though. Forgive me for the beginning, maybe the grapes will make up for it… (or not because it's not what you guys are expecting). And forgive me for any crackiness and slight OOC… I was having too much fun with this.

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

" **It's Rather… Blue"**

The next few days went by far too slowly for Hardy's taste. He hated the new medications. His default reaction to all pills - nausea - was worse than usual. The doctor tried to comfort him, telling him that this wasn't unusual initially, but that it should get better. As expected the diuretics made him go to the bathroom too frequently and soon the nurses were just as disgruntled with him as he was when he called them in every half hour.

Duncan's only comment over his dissatisfaction was what else was new, followed by excessive teasing about being a wimp, but when Hardy doubled over with abdominal pain and started vomiting profusely on the third day of treatment, he stopped joking.

When Hardy tried to hit him because he was convinced Duncan was coming to drown him in the river once and for all, Duncan was mortified. And when Hardy hugged the pillow the next moment, crying that he was sorry that he couldn't rescue Daisy in time, Duncan could only stand by in horror watching the medical team deal with the digoxin intoxication, shocked and for once in his life at a loss for words.

As the cardiologist had cautioned, the heart failure medication was a tricky one to handle. For lack of better words, the doctor had explained, Hardy got poisoned. His body's brisk reaction to the diuretics had led to a drop of the potassium level in his blood buying him a sudden encounter with the toxic side effects of digoxin. The hallucinations were a rare complication but apparently not unheard of.

Later that night, Duncan was sitting at Hardy's bedside holding his friend's hand. Hardy was better but still somewhat confused.

"Did ya bring grapes again?" Hardy's voice was rough with sleep and his words were slurred.

"What? Why would I do that?" Duncan asked, puzzled by the question.

"Stop fussing, Millah," Hardy mumbled, eyes closed.

Duncan's ears perked up. Hardy had told him about his colleague Ellie Miller, who was the only person in Broadchurch that Hardy had formed some form of bond with. Unfortunately it had turned out that her husband was the killer in Hardy's last case. Duncan had asked his friend, if he liked Ellie Miller and the vehement response that she was just a colleague and nothing else was confirmation enough that this woman indeed meant more to Hardy than he wanted to admit.

"Why'd ya run away to Devon, Millah? I miss you," Hardy murmured, squeezing Duncan's hand.

Duncan grinned. For a heartbeat he considered faking a response but then didn't. That really wouldn't be fair. On the other hand…

"Do you now?" he replied, deliberately shifting his pitch up and doing his best to rid his voice of the Scottish accent.

"Mmm," Hardy hummed, tugging Duncan's hand closer. "'M sorry abo't Joe. And Tom. Know how much it hurts when your kid doesn't want to talk to you…" he trailed off, stifling a sob.

Duncan ran his hand through Hardy's hair. "It's all right, Alec. Daisy will come around."

"I hope so, Millah, got nothing else left," Hardy mumbled, rolling over and still holding on to Duncan's hand. "Tom's a good lad, he loves you, just needs time."

Duncan was contemplating his next move, when a soft snoring noise relieved him from having to pretend to be the only person that Hardy had developed any connection with since the events surrounding the Sandbrook case had rendered him such a lonely man. Duncan carefully extracted his hand from his sleeping friend's grip, trailing his fingers over Hardy's gaunt cheeks. His eyes rested on Hardy's thin shape, heart aching.

When Geena had showed him the letter from the solicitor he had been shocked, seeking an explanation for what the hell was going on with Hardy. As soon as he saw him in the hotel a few days ago, he knew. His friend was falling apart, just as much as his life already had. And as always Hardy wasn't able to ask for help to stop the steep downfall. Duncan wiped off a single tear and resolutely sniffed, determined to catch his friend and put him back on his feet - kicking and screaming if necessary.

Hardy woke the next morning and had no recollection of their nightly conversation. Duncan offered to get him some fruit from the store, grapes perhaps. Hardy only squinted his eyes but didn't say a word.

When Duncan was almost out the door, he turned around and said, "So you miss Ellie Miller, ey? We should talk about that."

He was still chuckling at Hardy's gaping mouth and dumbfounded face when the elevator doors closed on him.

* * *

Eventually, they found the right combination of drugs and Hardy had to admit, he felt better than he had in weeks. He was less exhausted, his nights became more restful and when Duncan took him back to the Traders he was actually able to walk up the stairs to his room without falling over.

He was sitting on his bed when Duncan stuck the newspaper under his nose.

"This one looks promising. What do you think? We could go take a look at it tomorrow," Duncan said, pointing out the advertisement enthusiastically.

Hardy squinted at the print and fished out his glasses. He was still skeptical about finding a place to live, but Duncan wouldn't listen to any of his excuses.

"If you say so," he muttered and dropped the paper.

Duncan handed him a bottle of water, a banana and the paper bag he'd picked up for him from the pharmacy. Hardy eyed the yellow fruit.

"What's that for? I'm not hungry."

"Doctor's order. To keep up your potassium. I have no interest in a repeat performance of the other day. Alternatively you could eat avocado or spinach."

Hardy scrunched up his nose. "Avocado?" Duncan waved the banana in front of his face and grinned. Hardy reached for it reluctantly.

"I'm not a child, you know," he growled while peeling it. Duncan huffed and handed him his pills.

"You could've fooled me," Duncan muttered under his breath.

"I heard that."

"Good. Because you were supposed to."

They scowled at each other while Hardy was idly nibbling the banana. Hardy grinned first.

"Ha, your turn to buy dinner. And don't you dare lash out at my food again, just because you can't eat it."

Hardy sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "No, I won't."

Then after a pause, he dropped his gaze and added quietly, "Thanks for coming down and helping me."

Next thing Hardy knew, he was squeezed against his friend's broad chest and tightly wrapped into strong arms.

"Just say the word, Alec, and I'm here," Duncan breathed into his ear.

When he let go of Hardy, there was an awkward silence where neither one of them quite knew what to say. Eventually Duncan broke it with a grin on his face that was growing wider by the second.

"About that Harvest Festival…"

Hardy threw the banana peel at Duncan.

* * *

Two days later, Duncan had dragged him all over bloody Broadchurch and Hardy had had enough. So had Duncan. They were shouting at each other, sitting on the same damn bench he had seen Ellie Miller the last time, the night they lit a beacon for Danny Latimer.

"It was a perfectly fine flat, Alec, nothing to complain about," Duncan admonished him.

"Yah, just that the landlord tried to babble my ear off with all his theories about the latest series of break-ins three towns over," Hardy snarled back.

"Really? That's why? What about the one before?" Duncan growled.

"No stairs. Remember?" Hardy spat.

"You're such a smart arse sometimes."

"So I've been told," Hardy murmured to himself.

Not too long ago. In a hospital bed, after he had yet again almost died. Not for the first time he wished he could have found better words that night on the bench to convince Ellie Miller not to leave Broadchurch. Maybe he should ring her and ask if he could move into her old house. At least nobody would bug him there. She would probably kill him if he suggested that and with a good reason. It was a horrid thought. On the other hand, it was her bloody husband's fault that he was out of a job and needed to find a new place to stay.

"Alec? Are you listening to me?" Duncan was tapping on his shoulder and Hardy startled out of his thoughts.

Duncan sighed. "There is a place down by that small river over there..." - he gestured vaguely towards the town - "... but I assume that close to the water is out of question."

Hardy let his gaze trail over the houses towards the river. It was mostly blocked from his view but he remembered from taking one of his many walks that it was a rather quiet spot. He pushed himself to his feet and held a hand out to Duncan who looked at him in surprise.

"Might as well take a look. At least we already know what I'd be complaining about."

It took them a while to get there as Hardy needed to take a few breaks to catch his breath. At least he was able to do it at all. A week ago he couldn't have. He didn't admit to Duncan that the long grass and reeds surrounding the small grouping of houses nestled along the riverbank were rather pretty. He used to enjoy rivers. Until he pulled out a dead child from one.

There was no direct access to the house and it took them a bit to find the entrance in the back. Another plus. Not easy to be bugged by nosey town's folk. The house - if you could call it that; the owner described it pretentiously as a chalet when it wasn't much more than a wooden shack - was blue. A very bright sky blue. It was placed at an odd angle to the river, giving room to a small clearing in the front which was littered with all kind of knick-knack.

"It's rather… blue." Duncan sounded disgruntled. Hardy hid a grin. Wouldn't that be entertaining if he decided to go with the one place that his friend didn't approve of?

When they opened the glass doors, the curtains billowed out in the sea breeze. Hardy brushed them aside and stepped into the tiny living room. It was crowded with random pieces of furniture. A small table with three chairs was placed right beneath the window, bathed in soft light. One glance at the sofa was enough to know that it was a chiropractor's dream - the business he could get out from people resting on the rickety old piece would last a lifetime. There was a small but neat kitchen with a wall-mounted table and a clean bathroom. Besides the miniscule bedroom, that was more or less it. The walls were decorated with kitschy paintings and photographs. All in all a place that any person with even the slightest bit of taste would probably run away from.

Hardy didn't. But then nobody ever thought he had taste anyway. His grin grew wider when he saw Duncan's scowl.

"I couldn't even fit onto that bed," Duncan growled quietly, trying to be not too impolite.

" _You_ don't have to." Something in Hardy's voice made Duncan's head snap around. He squinted his eyes at Hardy.

"Don't tell me that you actually - "

"I'll take it," Hardy interrupted Duncan, turning to the owner. An hour and more paperwork than seemed reasonable later, Hardy was holding the keys to the little blue shack at the river.

* * *

The sun was setting and Hardy was sitting outside on a chair while Duncan was bringing in his few belongings from the hotel.

"You know, you might have been right…" Hardy trailed off.

"About what? That this place is shit? You wanted it. No backing -"

"No, Duncan. About finding a place to live, about making something my own again," Hardy interjected quietly.

Duncan put down the suitcase and sat down on the stairs close to Hardy. He put his hand on Hardy's shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze without saying a word. They sat in amicable silence until Duncan's stomach growled.

A brief memory of long summer days at school flickered through Hardy's mind and he broke out in laughter.

"Some things never change, do they? We should go and feed you." He slowly clambered to his feet. He was tired and didn't really want to move much but a hungry Duncan wasn't something one wanted to risk.

Duncan pushed him gently back into the chair. "I'll tell you what, Alec. I'll go and get us some food. You stay and enjoy your new place."

Hardy rested his hand on his friend's and their eyes locked.

"Thank you. For taking care of me."

Duncan cleared his throat before he answered. "Don't mention it. You would have done the same." And he quickly left, hiding his emotions.

Hardy leaned back on the chair and closed his eyes. The warmth of the sun on his face made him feel more at peace than he had in a while. And for one tiny moment he allowed himself to hope that there was light at the end of the tunnel after all.

* * *

"You should get a pumpkin," Dunkin mumbled in between bites of his fish and chips.

"What?" Hardy's head snapped up. He had been preoccupied with stabbing a piece of avocado in his salad to death. By now it had turned into a mushy green lump and was even less appealing than before.

They were sitting on the steps of his new home. It was dark by now and the water in front of them glittered in the full moon's silvery rays. Light from inside let them see just enough to eat comfortably outside. It was chilly but Hardy didn't mind. Duncan had joked about lighting a candle but was quickly discouraged by Hardy's disgruntled expression.

"A pumpkin… you know carve it and make a lantern out of it." Duncan's face was dark but Hardy could very well picture the smirk that was brightening his friend's features.

"Carve it? Seriously? Are you out of your mind? This is England not New England, in case you should have forgotten," Hardy scoffed.

"Ahhh…" - Duncan wagged a finger at him - "Always such a hypocrite."

"I'm not a bloody hypocrite. Just because some greedy businessmen decided we have to adopt all American customs, doesn't mean I -"

"And who jumped through hoops to get Daisy that Princess Leia costume? I'm not even going to mention the debacle with the Darth Vader mask."

"Oi, it's wasn't my fault that that kid had never even heard of Star Wars. His mother should have told him I wasn't a bad guy," Hardy growled.

"Dare I remind you that Darth Vader sort of really is a bad guy?"

"Smart arse," Hardy snarled.

Duncan sniggered. "You ruined your daughter's first date."

"I did no such thing. The kid was a wimp, running away like that. Not my fault that he tripped over his stupid Ninja costume and got a bloody nose," Hardy pouted.

"He was six and you were wearing a black mask and cape, growling at him with a Scottish accent. What did you expect?"

"Daisy wasn't scared," Hardy grumbled defiantly.

Duncan snorted and shoved another chip in his mouth. "Daisy worships the ground you walk on," he replied, garbling the words around the food in his mouth.

"Not any more," Hardy muttered under his breath. He abruptly put the salad down and took two long steps to the waterfront, crossing his arms and staring out over the tranquil river. There were tears stinging his eyes, but he bit them back, chewing on his lower lip.

Duncan's hand came to rest on his shoulder but he shrugged it off.

"She'll come around. Give her time." Duncan's attempt at comforting him wasn't working very well.

"She hasn't answered any of my calls, Duncan. I bet she's not even listening to the messages. I can't do this bloody surgery without ever talking to her again." He choked up.

This time he didn't shrug away the arm around his shoulders, welcoming the warmth of his friend's body that helped to keep the darkness at bay.

"I know, Alec." Duncan tugged him closer. "And when the time comes to get it done, we'll make sure you see her before. For now, just focus on getting better. Your body is tired and needs some time to heal. Take it easy for the next few weeks and then maybe by Christmas you'll be a new man."

Hardy nodded, despite having his doubts that he would have a quiet time like his friend proposed. Claire had left a dozen voicemails and even more texts over the past few days, despite knowing he wasn't available to cater to her every whim.

Duncan gently steered him back to the house and made him sit on the stairs again. The light from inside fell on Duncan's face and Hardy was surprised to see a mischievous grin curling up his lips. Duncan sat down and reached in the bag that he had brought the food in.

"Time for dessert." He turned and when Hardy saw what he was holding in his hands, his mouth fell open.

"Fancy some grapes?" The grin almost ripped Duncan's face apart.

* * *

A/N: A few weeks back I followed ktrose's adventures on a journey through DT's Britain… and when I saw her pictures of Alec Hardy's blue shack, I got all soppy and started thinking about how did he end up there? And how did he go from grouchy, pale faced "I'm a gonna pass out in the bathroom" (S1) Hardy to sort of softie, ashen faced "I'm a gonna die any moment but now I think it's finally time for the bloody pacemaker" (S2) Hardy? Part of my feeble attempt to answer to this oh-so important question will be revealed in a Christmas story which I have written but still has to wait a bit to be put out there… soon though.

The story is not done yet, but the next chapter might be delayed until after the weekend due to RL commitments of both author and trusty beta/editor (aka "what would I do without you"- Hazelmist)


	5. Chapter 5 - Because You Said So

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay. RL got in the way and I also realized I needed to put up another chapter of "A Million Holes" first for some of this to make sense. Thank you everyone for enjoying this story with me. **And thanks to hazelmist for everything!**

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

" **Because You Said So"**

Hardy eyed the bunch of green fruits suspiciously. This was the second time his friend seemed to make a reference to something that only he and a certain curly-haired woman in a hideous orange windbreaker knew about. He had mentioned Ellie Miller to Duncan in passing and Duncan had latched onto it immediately, convinced that Miller was his secret love interest. He couldn't have been farther from the truth. If there was any mutual secret interest then it was how to annoy each other the most efficient way.

Duncan's eyes sparkled and he demonstratively plucked a grape off its stem. He dropped it in his mouth and bit down enthusiastically. The skin popped with a crunch and Duncan's grin was back.

"They're rather tasty. You should try one. Maybe you'll actually like something for a change?" Duncan teased him.

"Why did you bring those, Duncan? The only grape that you like is usually liquid and has been fermenting in a barrel for a few months," Hardy asked, trepidation rising.

"Ah, being witty, dear Alec? I heard a rumor that grapes are good for convalescing. Especially if they are brought to your bed by a ' _friend_ '." Duncan had leaned towards Hardy, putting on a conspiratorial expression, whispering the last word as if it was a state secret. Hardy cringed at Duncan wiggling his eyebrows up and down, face all pleased with this little game of his. An image of a fifteen-year-old Duncan teasing him about a girl Hardy fancied surfaced in his mind.

 _For God's sake_. Duncan didn't think that Ellie Miller and he… he never finished his thought, utterly thrown off by Duncan's next words.

"So, about the fact that you miss Ellie Miller… do you wanna talk about it?" Duncan had a hard time keeping his face neutral. If Hardy hadn't known him for so long, the tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth would have gone unnoticed. His friend popped another grape between his teeth and grinned.

"I dunno what you're talking about. Just because I mentioned her to you, doesn't mean I miss her," Hardy replied carefully. He didn't want Duncan to get any ideas. He didn't miss Miller. Not really. Not her per se. Maybe it was more like missing another human being to spend time with that wasn't called Claire Ripley. Who wasn't trying to hide the truth from him while making desperate attempts of getting him into bed with her.

Duncan's grin grew wider in response. It was unnerving. Hardy squirmed on the stairs and loosened his tie. The night suddenly felt warmer than it had before.

"Why you would even think so is a mystery to me," he grumbled.

Duncan bent over and breathed into his ear, "Because you said so."

Hardy's mouth opened and closed.

"What? I never -"

"Apparently being poisoned with digoxin works as a truth serum for you. I should remember that trick. It was rather impressive. More grapes?" Duncan shoved the fruits under Hardy's nose and when he saw his reaction, he burst out in laughter.

"Not funny," Hardy sulked. "She threatened to piss in a cup and throw it at me."

"Astonishing!" Duncan grabbed his tea mug that was sitting on the cracked cement. "Can I offer her this cup?"

Hardy groaned. If the thought of Emily in the same room with Duncan had frightened him already, an encounter between Ellie Miller and Duncan would obliterate the need for the pacemaker once and for all. Sudden death seemed like a merciful way out.

"She hates my guts, Duncan. I took her job, arrested her husband and destroyed her life. Can't even blame her. I'd be irritated by myself." Hardy's thoughts drifted back to the dinner at the Miller house and his conversation with Joe. It might have been the last time he laughed with someone until Duncan showed up. To think it was with Joe Miller sent a shiver down his spine. He had had no idea at the time who he was telling that he would solve this case with certainty. Joe was a better liar than he had given him credit for that evening.

He stared out over the water, the moonlight turning the river into a lake of silver. He pulled his coat tighter around him, all heat gone. _'It was Joe'_ \- Ellie Miller's haunting watery eyes didn't let him find peace and had joined the cast of his nightly horror show of dreams.

"Alec?" Duncan's gentle voice drew him back to the here and now.

"I had to tell her," he muttered.

"Tell her what?"

Hardy ran his hands over his face. "That it was her husband who murdered that boy. She broke apart right in front of me and I couldn't do anything to help her. Another life destroyed by lies and deceit."

"It wasn't your fault," Duncan reminded him.

"If you say so. Can't help but think though that my shit luck rubs off on anyone I'm around. She's probably better off with being nowhere close to me," Hardy scoffed.

"You said she ran off to Devon?" Duncan asked curiously.

Hardy shot him a sideways glance, wondering _what_ he'd actually revealed while he was recovering from the digoxin intoxication. He hummed in agreement. There was no way he'd tell Duncan that he had called in several favors to make sure that the Devon Constabulary would be clear about Miller's involvement in the case and her excellent qualifications as a detective.

"The fucking people in this town, her so called friends..." - Hardy snorted in disgust - "... had nothing better to do than declare her guilty by association. Not really interested in her side of the story. She felt like she had no choice but leave. Sounds familiar?" Anger had crept in his voice and he squashed a grape that had fallen to the ground with his foot.

Duncan tilted his head. "Have you heard from her?"

Hardy shook his head. "Last time I saw her was on the day of Danny's funeral. I haven't spoken to her since."

"How do you know where she is then?" Hardy couldn't help but feel that Duncan was interrogating him. He was too tired to come up with a believable lie.

"Might have bribed her sister to tell me where she was planning on going," he mumbled, eyes fixed on the squashed grape.

"You like her," Duncan stated quietly, a warm tone in his voice. Hardy looked up and their eyes met.

"I don't like people, Duncan. Not any more," Hardy replied bleakly. "Besides, she's infuriating and can't stand me."

"If she's so infuriating and hates you so much, why do you miss her then?" Duncan's voice was as soft as it could be.

"Because she was the only person who was actually _nice_ to me since Lee Ashworth walked free, even if it was more out of necessity than anything else. Because she was the only person who didn't think I was a total fuck up and was willing to give me a chance. Because she didn't shy away from telling me off when I did something stupid. And because we were in this together, she and I. She's a genuinely _caring_ person and her arsehole husband had to destroy all of this over his pedophilic lust for an eleven-year-old boy. Her son doesn't want to talk to her any more and she was forced to leave the one place she called home. How's that fair? She has done nothing but tried to be kind and look how well that went for her."

The words tumbled out of Hardy's mouth and left him breathless. His heart was racing, fueled by the fury at what life had done to Ellie Miller. The silver surface of the water was spinning and he slumped forward, helpless and stricken by his own emotions. His anguish turned into physical pain when his racing heartbeat turned into a flutter in his chest. Duncan caught him before he could thud onto the cement. His friend's voice was far away, asking him for the whereabouts of his pills. He couldn't speak or move, too far gone to have control over his body.

When a bitter taste on his tongue made him gag, he realized that Duncan had shoved the medication into his mouth and was trying to get him to swallow. He almost choked on the water that hit the back of his throat, but it helped to wash down the pills. His vision tunneled in on the spinning pinwheel until the red-silvery blurred blades were the only thing on his mind. That and Duncan's soothing voice that told him to be calm. Minutes passed that could have been hours and finally the pain in his chest subsided and breathing became easier.

Duncan pulled him to his feet and led him inside to the small bedroom. Hardy's clothes were plastered to his thin body, drenched in cold sweat. He fumbled with his shirt, hands still numb from the attack. Duncan watched him for a few seconds, then sighed and helped him to peel off his shirt and pants.

"If simply asking why you miss this person throws you into near cardiac arrest, I don't dare imagine what suggesting to give her a call could do to you. So forget I even mentioned it," Duncan said through clenched teeth while he heaved Hardy onto the mattress.

Hardy didn't know if he should cry or laugh over his friend's exasperated expression. Maybe both.

"'M sorry. Got a bit carried away." He rubbed the back of his head and shot a sheepish glance at his friend who rolled his eyes at him. "Didn't care for her much in the beginning. Too friendly and trusting. Always fussing over people. She drives me up the wall but I sort of…" - he hesitated, trying to find the best word, but there was only one way to say it. "I sort of miss her. She's the closest to a friend that I've had in a while," he ended his thought quietly.

Duncan was sitting at the foot of the bed. He put a hand on Hardy's leg and patted it gently.

"Call her, Alec. Or go see her. She sounds like someone who needs a friend right now, just as much as you needed one after the Sandbrook case blew up in your face." Duncan smiled encouragingly. Then his smile turned into a smirk. "You could invite her to the Harvest Festival - a clandestine meeting on the cliffs - Ellie, the outcast of her community and Alec, savior of all women in distress - how romantic would that be?"

Hardy struggled to a sitting position and feebly smacked his friend's arm, then fell back on his pillow.

"You're such an idiot. You spend too much time with theater folks - the melodrama is getting to your head. If you think I'm going to that stupid dance, than you're a bloody moron," Hardy growled.

Duncan laughed and got up. "We'll see about that."

"Don't waste your breath, not going," Hardy mumbled, eyes falling shut.

"Go to sleep, Alec," Duncan said and turned off the light.

The silvery moonlight filtered through the blinds, bathing the room in a pale blue-grey shade, devoid of all color. The memory of watching Ellie Miller walking away from the Traders that night she'd come to talk to him found its way to the forefront of his mind. The full moon had cast its light on her lonely figure and Hardy almost went after her, but then didn't. Maybe he should have, was the last thing he thought before he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Hardy woke to the smell of salt water mixing with the tantalizing scent of freshly brewed coffee. He opened his eyes to see the billowing curtains gently floating around Duncan who was leaning on the door frame, cradling a steaming mug. Duncan was staring out onto the water, lost in his thoughts. Hardy let his eyes fall shut again, not ready for this day. He didn't want his friend to leave.

A phone ringing jerked him out of his drowsiness.

"Oh, hi Ed... No, he's much better. Seems the medication is helping. Almost did him in though... No, I don't think any mistakes were made. They explained everything well. It's a difficult drug to handle..."

Suddenly, Duncan's expression changed and a deep furrow dug itself onto his forehead. He stood up straight and stepped outside. It was harder for Hardy to hear and he sat up slowly, curious what could have caused the change in mood. He clambered to his feet and padded quietly over to the door. Duncan was pacing along the waterfront, too upset to notice Hardy.

"What do you mean the bank's at fault? How's that even possible?... A computer glitch? Seriously? You realize this almost killed him. They'd better..."

Whatever Ed Baxter had said on the other side made Duncan stop. His face went pale and he shook his head, catching sight of Hardy with the motion. His face paled more when he saw his friend. Hardy mouthed 'what's wrong?' and stepped closer.

"Ed, I think he should hear this... He's right here with me, I'll put you on speaker..."

Duncan ushered Hardy inside and put the phone on the small table beneath the window. He tapped the screen and a familiar voice greeted Hardy.

"Alec, still alive, I hear." Hardy snorted in response not really knowing what to say to his former boss and friend who he had dodged talking to since he'd left Sandbrook.

"Do you still have a voice or are you ignoring me like you have been for the past months?"

Hardy sat down and ran his fingers through his hair. "'M sorry. Should have called," he sighed.

"You bloody well should have," Baxter growled. Then he added with a softer voice, "I'm glad you're feeling better. Duncan told me what happened."

"Why do I feel like I'm being ganged up upon?" Hardy grumbled, shooting a piercing glare at Duncan who was leaning against the door again and shrugging his shoulders.

"Ach, stop being a knob. We care about you." Baxter paused and took in a deep breath. Hardy braced himself for whatever bad news was coming his way.

"Duncan told me that as far as you know the child support should have come through. I -"

"The two of you stay out of my business. I can pay for my child myself," Hardy snarled into the phone.

"And nobody doubts that, Alec. That's -"

"Is that so? Why did he do it for me then like I'm some dead beat dad who doesn't care for his child?" Hardy interrupted Baxter again, anger emphasizing the Scottish accent.

"Someone messed with your bank account," Baxter stated matter-of-factly, taking away all the steam of Hardy's fury filled rant.

"What?" Hardy's heart stuttered and he couldn't hide the grimace fast enough from Duncan.

"Ed, go easy with this, don't want to have to ship him to the hospital again." Duncan interjected from his observation spot at the door. Hardy rolled his eyes at him.

"I'm not an invalid," he muttered under a few strained breaths.

"Alec, please listen to me. When Duncan told me that you seemed genuinely surprised by this, I took it upon me to snoop around. Turns out the bank believes it was a computer glitch. I found that a bit odd and asked Craig to take a look - and before you complain about that, he's keeping it confidential - he thinks it's not a glitch but that someone actually undid the changes you made recently." Baxter's voice carried the slightest tremble, enough for Hardy to know how worried his friend was

Hardy sucked in a sharp breath. His hands came up and pressed against his eyeballs. Then he buried his fingers in his hair, resting his heavy head on his palms. He closed his eyes against the tilting world.

"Same person?" was all he could get out.

"Craig believes so. He gave me some tech babble why, but bottom line is that he's rather certain," Baxter confirmed.

The breeze coming in from the water sent a shiver down his spine. His teeth chattered and all warmth had seeped out of him. A choked noise escaped his throat around the lump that had formed and he couldn't swallow away. His chest felt tight but not from his heart condition.

"Alec?" Bater sounded worried.

"He's all right, Ed. A bit shocked perhaps." Duncan had pulled up the chair next to Hardy and put a hand on Hardy's shoulder.

"Maybe it's best if we keep paying for the child support for now. You can always forward me the money," Duncan suggested gently. Hardy nodded. If it was indeed the same person who had hacked into his personnel file almost two years ago, then this sounded like the best solution.

"Can you guys do something about it?" Duncan asked hopefully.

"I'm afraid not. As the bank insists on not having had a security breach and the hacker was too clever to leave real traces, there is no proof. We also have no way of finding the person. We were not able to back then either. Whoever it is, he or she's a pro," Baxter sighed.

Hardy tried to clear his voice and failed. His "Thanks, Ed." was a more of a croak than a sentence.

"Don't mention it. Just watch your back." Baxter paused for a moment. "Maybe you should come back here, so you're not so alone down there?" There was a pleading undertone that tugged on Hardy's already shaken heart.

"I can't, Ed. I can't go back there. Not yet," Hardy replied, shaking his head. Not until he got the truth out of Claire Ripley and until Joe Miller was convicted.

Baxter sighed. "Think about it, please?"

"I will," he assured Baxter half-heartedly. They both knew that he wouldn't return to Sandbrook any time soon.

"All right then. I'll let you know if I find out anything else. You might want to check on your accounts frequently."

A thought popped up in Hardy's mind. "What about my phone? I really didn't get those calls, I swear."

"Your phone?" Baxter seemed confused.

"Oh, I forget to tell you about that. I guess that's why I'm the actor and not the detective," Duncan admitted with a sheepish glance at a very annoyed looking Hardy.

"Supposedly Tess tried to get in touch with me and thinks I ignored her calls. Never got any of them although they now show up in my call history," Hardy explained.

"I see. I'll have Craig take a look at those as well. But I think we all know what the answer will be. You should get a new phone and number. And don't you dare conveniently forget to give us your new contact information, do you hear me?"

Hardy groaned. "No, I won't."

"Good, because I'll find out anyway. Gotta go for now, have a meeting in five minutes. Talk to you soon, Duncan."

"Bye, Ed," Duncan hollered from the kitchen where he was making tea for Hardy.

"Take care of yourself, Alec." The tenderness in Baxter's voice was almost too much to bear for Hardy.

"I will," he promised. The click in the line echoed through his mind and he felt instantaneously lonely.

Duncan placed a cup of tea in front of him. Hardy looked up. "If I go to the Harvest Festival with you, will you stay?" he asked, unable to hide the quiver in his voice.

Duncan's lips curled up in a smile. "You don't have to bribe me to stay longer, but I'll take you by your word."

* * *

 **A/N:** The story is not quite finished yet. After all, Hardy just promised to go to the Harvest Festival with Duncan ;-)


	6. Chapter 6 - Because She Doesn't Like You

**A/N:** Happy Halloween everyone! Thanks for reading and commenting. It's festival time… maybe a bit different from what some might expect, but I hope you'll still enjoy it. I am as always forever grateful to hazelmist for her endless patience in correcting my mistakes.

* * *

" **Because She Doesn't Like You"**

 **Chapter 6**

It was another unseasonably warm night when the lights of the Harvest Festival lit up the top of Harbor Cliff. Tables and chairs were loosely grouped under rows of lanterns. Happy chatter mixed with music and the sea breeze took the sounds out over the cliff to the ocean. A large bonfire bathed some of the town's people in a red and orange glow. Others were gliding over the wooden platform that served as a dance floor.

Duncan was one of them. Hardy was lingering at the edge of the gathering, where the shadows began to win the battle against the light cast by the lanterns. He was under the strict instruction not to scowl the whole evening and had been moderately successful in doing so. He would never admit it to Duncan, but he actually enjoyed being around all these happy people. Watching them celebrating life filled him with contentment and an odd sense of peace.

Someone sat down next to him and when Hardy looked up, he was surprised to find Paul Coates handing him a plastic cup with a dark red liquid in it.

"I can't drink wine," he said automatically, rejecting the beverage.

"I know. Neither can I." Paul lifted his own cup and smiled. "It's fruit punch. For the kids. So just the right thing for a recovering alcoholic and a detective with a secret heart condition."

Hardy huffed and accepted the vicar's offer reluctantly. "This town has no concept of privacy. I doubt it's very secret any more."

Paul nodded and Hardy was wondering what he concurred with - that there was no privacy or that his condition was anything but hidden.

"Wouldn't have thought you'd come to something like this," Paul remarked. "It seems a bit too social and happy for you."

Hardy's eyebrow went up. "And I wouldn't have taken this for your sort of thing. It's a bit too pagan, isn't it?" Hardy scoffed. "Or are you simply making sure that your flock of sheep won't tread upon forbidden ground while frolicking around the bonfire?"

Paul glared at him, but then his face relaxed into a grin. "You know, I've always liked that about you. Your scathing sarcasm that is. Must serve you well in your line of work."

"Seriously? You _liked_ something about me?" Hardy replied incredulously. Then he sniffed the cup and took a small taste. "Are you sure there isn't any alcohol in this?"

"Good Lord, you made a _joke_. You must be right. That's the only explanation for your uncharacteristic behavior."

Both men stared at each other for a split second before Paul burst out laughing and Hardy chuckled quietly. After a moment of silence, Paul took it upon him to continue the conversation.

"So, Becca told me you've moved out." There was a question hidden in the statement.

Hardy sighed. "See, no privacy. And before you ask… the answer is yes, I'll be staying for a while. At least until Joe Miller is convicted."

"Have you heard from Ellie?" Paul inquired quietly.

Hardy shook his head, but didn't elaborate.

"You know I don't think it was her fault, right?"

"You seem to be the only one with that opinion," Hardy growled. His eyes found Beth Latimer in the crowd. Her hand was resting on her belly that was starting to show. She was talking to Nigel who seemed imbibed already and kept tipping over to lean on Beth.

Paul must have followed his gaze. "I'm sure they'll work it out eventually."

Hardy's head whipped around and his hazel eyes bore into Paul. "How do you know? The whole bloody town condemned Ellie Miller for something she didn't do. And Beth is the leader of the lynch mob. It's not that I don't understand her. If anyone has the right to question Ellie then it's her. She lost her child to a heinous crime and nothing will ever bring him back. But the ease with which the others followed is mind boggling and disgusting to say the least. Ellie doesn't deserve any of this. She did nothing but care and be kind. And this is what she got for it. Having to run from the only place she calls home," Hardy spat out the last words.

He leaned onto the table, catching his breath after his angry rant. And just like a few days before, his heart didn't appreciate the emotional upheaval and was already down the path of wreaking havoc with his body. He fumbled for his pills, but couldn't find them. Panic was rising inside him and it became harder to breathe.

"Is this what you need?" Paul had picked up the blister pack from the ground where it had fallen.

Hardy nodded.

"How many?"

Hardy held up two fingers, not able to articulate anything. Paul handed them to him and watched him carefully while his heart settled down.

"Better?" Paul asked, once Hardy's breathing became easier.

Hardy nodded again, unwilling to talk.

"Becca told me that she found you passed out in the bathroom during the investigation. She took you to the hospital. That must have been before you collapsed running down Joe Miller. How serious is this _'secret heart condition'_ , DI Hardy?" Paul's voice was soft and it irked Hardy more than it should have. He didn't need the vicar's pity.

"It's not DI any more," he snarled. Paul's face was impassive, waiting patiently for the answer to his question. When he didn't continue, Paul leaned closer and put his hand on Hardy's arm

"I understand not wanting to talk about a health problem, believe me. I'm not going to pry. But if you feel the need to share or…" - he hesitated briefly - "... make peace, my door is always open. And I do know how to keep things confidential." Paul was genuine and Hardy knew it.

Paul was about to get up, when Hardy spoke.

"If I don't deal with it, it's going to kill me. Soon." There was surprisingly little anger or pain in those few words. It was his reality and he was willing to accept it. Not so much the part that his arrhythmia would kill him, but more so that he was ready to finally do something about it, even if circumstance prevented him from dealing with it this very moment.

Paul sat down again. "That serious," he said solemnly and looked Hardy in the eye.

"Aye. That serious." Hardy resisted the urge to ask Paul not to tell anyone. He knew he wouldn't.

"I'd say I'll keep you in my prayers but I know you better than that. If there is anything I can do to help besides that, don't hesitate to come to me. Please." Another sincere offer.

"Thanks," Hardy mumbled. He felt rather awkward and his ears were burning. Accepting help wasn't his forte. At a loss for words, he rested his hand on Paul's shoulder and squeezed it briefly.

"Vicar! I hear we have to thank you for these splendid festivities." Duncan's voice boomed across the grass and saved Hardy from any further embarrassment. Or so he thought. When he saw, who his friend was escorting over to the table they were sitting at, Hardy wanted to sink into the earth. It was Lucy Stevens of all people.

Paul got up and shook Duncan's hand. "I'm glad you're enjoying it. Thought the town could use some entertainment after this summer's events." Paul's eyes wandered from Duncan to Hardy. A smile brightened up his face when he saw Hardy's reaction to the news that it had been him who organized the Harvest Festival. "And what could be better for my flock than a bit of pagan frolicking around a bonfire." Paul winked and patted a dumbfounded Hardy on the back before he walked away.

Hardy sighed deeply. This bloody town and its people. They would be the end of him some day or other.

"DI Hardy!" Lucy Stevens' excited and somewhat slurred voice rang in his ears and all he could think was that maybe the day had come sooner than he thought.

* * *

Lucy plopped down on the chair next to him and put a hand on his arm. She was leaning just a tad too close for Hardy's comfort. Her breath was warm on his cheek and faintly smelled of alcohol.

"So, did you ever talk to Ellie?" Lucy slurred, happily smiling at him.

Hardy silently shook his head. He had told Lucy he needed to talk to Ellie because of the case. It had been a lie. All he wanted to know was where she would try to find a new job so he could make sure she'd be treated fairly.

"She's still in Devon, giving out speeding tickets. Asked her if she could take care of mine but -"

"What do you mean, speeding tickets? She's a DS even if she took the uniform," Hardy asked, sitting up straighter. Something was wrong here.

"Oh, you didn't know? She switched to traffic patrol. Said it was better hours, easier to arrange for child care for Fred." Lucy made it sound like the most normal thing in the world. Clearly she had no understanding of the politics of the police force and what that really meant for Ellie.

Hardy exchanged a glance with Duncan who was observing the conversation quietly, face impassive.

"Lucy, are you sure about this? Did they make her switch?" Hardy inquired with an edge in his voice. If his contacts lied to him he would...

"Yup. Totally sure." She toasted into the air and took another big gulp of her beverage. "She did it voluntarily. She said it was because of Fred, but you know what, I don't buy it. It happened after she busted a guy for domestic violence or something. I think she chickened out."

Hardy's forehead wore a big frown. This news worried him more than he wanted to admit. That didn't sound at all like the person who was still mad he'd taken her job.

"What about Tom? Has he spoken to her?" Hardy asked, not having much hope there.

Lucy's expression changed. This time it was her turn to silently shake her head.

"Not even on the phone?" Again Lucy's head went side to side and Hardy's heart ached. He looked past her and found Tom's figure on the far end of the festival grounds. He was alone, sitting on a bale of hay. Hardy couldn't make out his face, but just like himself, Tom was lingering on the edge of the gathering.

Lucy took in a deep breath and put on a fake smile. "Well, DI Hardy, enjoy the rest of the evening. I'm going to get another drink." She stood and turned to Duncan. "A pleasure meeting you. Thanks for the dance." Her smile reached her eyes and she slowly walked away, only swaying slightly.

"You should call her," Duncan suggested quietly once Lucy was out of earshot.

"What?" Hardy had been lost in his own thoughts.

"You should call her. Really sounds like she needs a friend, someone who might understand."

"She doesn't like me, remember?" Hardy growled.

"Right." Duncan stood up and patted him on the shoulder. "And that's why she came to talk to you, because she doesn't like you." He gave Hardy one last hearty pat and walked away to apparently ask Becca for a dance.

Hardy sighed. Maybe his friend had a point. Ellie was alone. So was he. Stranger alliances had been formed before. Again, his eyes found Tom in the crowd. They could commiserate over the loss of their children and their jobs. All because of their cheating significant other. Granted Ellie's husband was in a different category than Tess, but the end result of their respective behavior was eerily similar.

Hardy stood up slowly, tired of sitting around and watching Duncan gallivanting amongst Broadchurch's townsfolk. The turning heads and incredulous faces that accompanied Duncan's conversations were irking him to say the least. Why did everyone always assume he didn't have any friends? He ignored the answer that popped up in his mind and searched the crowd for Tom. His eyes were trailing along the tables on the edge. He spotted Tom soon enough.

He sped up and abruptly came to a halt when he bumped into someone. He tripped over his own feet and was halfway en-route to the muddy ground and way too close to the bonfire, when a hand steadied him.

"You all right, DI Hardy?" a female voice asked.

"It's not DI any more," Hardy grumbled, yet again reminding himself more of the fact than anyone else. He wiped his muddy hand on his pants and clambered to his feet. He looked up and met Maggie Radcliffe's amused eyes. _Spectacular,_ the press was all he needed to turn this evening into a wonderful memory that would last a lifetime. How he loathed this stupid town and the fact that there was no anonymity.

"You're the last person I would have pictured coming to this. I wouldn't have picked dancing under the stars as one of your favorite past times." She smirked.

He huffed. "It sure isn't mine, it's his." He cocked his head, pointing towards where Duncan was laughing with Becca and Paul Coates.

"Oh, I wondered if he's with you. He's Scottish," Maggie mocked Hardy who rolled his eyes.

"A fine example of investigative journalism," he retorted. "Talking about fine examples – where's your side kick Olly? Haven't seen him all evening. I'm surprised he isn't using the opportunity to annoy the shit out of me."

Maggie shrugged her shoulders. "He's in London. Interviewing for a job." She sounded sad. Hardy searched her face. God knew why she missed the pain in the arse but she seemed truly emotional about it. They both stared into bonfire for a while.

"So, I hear you moved into your own place?" Hardy shot her a sideways glance and nodded. _Bloody town._ Gossip spread faster than a Californian wild fire.

"You're not going back to Sandbrook then?" she added curiously.

"It's none of your business, Maggie," Hardy growled, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Maggie tilted her head and gave him a long look. "No. I guess it isn't. I was just thinking you might. Your family is there after all."

"I don't have a family." His words were bitter and sharp. He grimaced with the quick stab in his chest. _God_ , how he hated it when his body betrayed his inner works like that. It didn't go unnoticed.

"I heard you've been ill again," she said, yet another question resonating in the words.

" _Bloody hell._ Is there no fucking privacy in this town? How do you people even live with each other?" Hardy shouted much louder than he intended to. He glared at Maggie who at least had the decency to look embarrassed.

"Don't be so touchy about it. You were hiding your heart condition while you were running a murder investigation. People have a right to know about –"

He didn't let her finish. He had enough of the rubbish the press always cited in their defense.

"No, Maggie. People have a right to have their privacy respected. Dragging someone's personal life or health into the open without any bearing to the public is not reporting, it's sensationalism. And yes, I am a bit touchy about it, considering that it certainly contributed to ruining my life," he spewed at her.

Maggie closed her mouth and pressed her lips together. Her face turned red and she looked truly dismayed. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, dropping her gaze.

Hardy sighed. "Ach, for God's sake, it wasn't your fault. You're not like Karen and her cronies." Then he added after a pause, "Why did you never publish the interview?"

Maggie's eyes lingered on the fire. "Because all that it would have done is open up old wounds. The families', the town's and not the least yours."

His head whipped around and they looked each other straight in the eye.

"You might not realize it, but people would have made the connection between the female DS that you were protecting and your wife very quickly. She's still dating the bloke, even now," Maggie explained swiftly before he could say anything. She sure had done her homework.

His eyes widened and he was fighting his pent up anger that flared every time when someone mentioned that Dave Thompson was now living in his house. Maggie must have read his expression.

"I'm sorry. Didn't mean to upset you." She was genuine and her hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"'S fine," he mumbled, chewing on his lip. It wasn't, but it didn't matter. He'd endured so much over this whole topic that a small stab like this was barely a scratch on his wounded soul.

"Have you heard from Ellie?" Maggie changed the topic.

"No. Have you?"

She shook her head.

"Olly?" He was hopeful.

"No. Not that he told me," she sighed.

Hardy's eyes trailed over the crowd again. He caught sight of Tom, walking away towards the path down to the beach.

"Maggie, I've gotta go," he said and stalked off without waiting for her to answer, following the teenager down the cliff.

* * *

It was dark and rather steep. Hardy stumbled over the path and prayed he wouldn't pass out and fall off those stupid cliffs. His cardiologist would most certainly disapprove of his actions but these were different matters of the heart. Observing how Tom seemed to be lingering on the outside, not participating in the festivities had pained Hardy. More than it maybe should have. It reminded him too much of his own child who after the Sandbrook case was closed didn't only have to deal with her parents splitting up but also with all the fall-out from the trial.

He trailed Tom down to the ocean. The wind was tugging on his thin coat and tousling his hair. The taste of salt on his lips was always present in Broadchurch and Hardy couldn't stand it. He groaned when his ankle rolled in the soft sand. He hated the beach.

All the time he'd spent as a boy sitting in the sand, digging his hands into the ground-up pebbles, trying so hard not to cry over his parents arguing, had left him with a strong dislike of anything related to the sea. If it hadn't been for Daisy, he would never have set foot on a beach ever again. But his little girl loved the water, the sand and the endless sky. So he obediently trudged along every summer vacation, built sand castles and looked for tiny sea creatures in the surf. He drew the line at going on a boat. There was no way she could get him _onto_ the water.

Hardy had lost sight of Tom in the dark. He slowed down, not that he'd been walking that fast in the first place. The boy was nowhere and Hardy was getting worried.

"Are you following me?" a voice right next to him spoke.

Hardy jerked around and faced an angry looking Tom. Before he could answer, there was a stutter in his chest, followed by immediate lightheadedness. His heart stumbled while he desperately tried to stay upright. He barely managed to do so.

As far as Hardy could tell, Tom was scowling at him. It wasn't easy in this pitch black night to see anything. His blurred vision certainly didn't help. The boy had grown since he'd seen him last about a month or so ago.

"So, are you following me or what?" Tom questioned him again, more disgruntled this time.

"Maybe," Hardy conceded reluctantly.

"Don't!" Tom spat and started to walk away quickly.

Hardy was fast enough to catch Tom's arm. "Tom, please. I meant to talk to you."

"Get your hands off of me." Hardy dropped his arm and stepped back from the boy. The last thing he wanted was to appear to force him into a conversation. He had done that already twice. No need to alienate him further.

"Tom, have you talked to your mother?" Hardy asked with a soft voice. His words were almost drowned out by the sound of the waves rolling onto the shore.

"I don't wanna see her." Tom crossed his arms across his chest and turned his back to Hardy.

"Why not?"

There was a desperate tone to his words. Hardy needed to understand what would drive a twelve-year old to reject his parent who loved him more than anything in the world. What would make this boy choose to leave his mother in a time when you would assume he needed her most? What did Miller do wrong to hurt him that much? What had he done so wrong to hurt her that much? It hit Hardy suddenly that he wasn't thinking about Tom and Miller at all but about himself and Daisy. The wind was blowing harder and made his eyes sting. Or at least that was what he wanted to believe.

"Stop questioning me. You're not at work and it's none of your business. You can't make me tell you," Tom was shouting, maybe out of anger, maybe to be heard against the onslaught of the sea.

Hardy took a step towards Tom who retreated immediately, closing in on the water. It made Hardy nervous to see the foamy ocean lick at Tom's shoes. The tide was coming in and the waves were building, dark rolling hills with white crowns.

"Tom, please get away from the water," Hardy pleaded, unable to hide the tremble in his voice. The wind gusts were billowing his coat around him and mussed up his already messy hair. His heart was thudding in his chest but it was holding up against the storm. He wished he had the right words to reach past Tom's walls. But what made him think that he could be more successful with this boy he hardly had ever spoken to than with his own daughter, he didn't know. The only thing he knew was that he needed to at least try.

Tom took another step back, his ankles now submerged. The panic that the memory of Pippa's bloated body and Brennan's ghostly white face evoked took a tight hold over Hardy. He shook his head, and breathed, "No.", unable to move.

"What are you gonna do about it?" Tom yelled and moved deeper into the waves. "You already destroyed my family, you already took away my Dad. You and Mum!" Tom was shaking.

Hardy sucked in the cold salty air. _Come on_ , he told himself, willing himself to speak.

"Tom, your mother didn't take your Dad away. Joe committed a serious crime. He is guilty, he confessed everything to me. Nobody is setting him up. He killed Danny."

Hardy's quiet but strong voice carried through the wind. The words reached Tom but Hardy knew they were not good enough. The boy's face scrunched up and Hardy suspected he was trying to hold back tears. Tom was still standing in the knee-high water.

"I hate her!" he spat with so much fury that it broke Hardy's already ailing heart. "And I hate you!" he yelled. Turning, he splashed through the waves, running away from all that symbolized the wrongs that the world had done to him.

Hardy stood frozen to the spot. Maybe he should just stop talking to teenagers. His cynical thoughts were a poor masquerade of the growing desperation inside him. His eyes wandered up the cliff to the lights of the festivities. Faint music was drifting down with the wind gusts. He had no energy to even consider climbing back up the treacherous path. He was weary and worn out. He lowered his body into the wet sand, pulled up his knees and stared into the waves that kept on coming, crushing against the shore, never relenting. He didn't cry, not like the last time an irate teenager had thrown those words at him.

His hands found his wallet. It opened to a smiling Pippa and as always his eyes lingered for a moment, renewing the silent vow to her. Then his fingers felt for the familiar folded up shape. He pulled out the beaten up photograph and flattened it carefully. Daisy's beaming face greeted him, a memory of happier, warmer days. He brushed over the contours of her hair and arms, longing to feel her warm body in his arms and not only Pippa's heavy weight pulling him under, more and more as every day went by. His chest ached and he pressed his hand against it, holding the picture tightly. It was at moments like this when all that stood between him and the darkness were the images of those two girls, both needing to find peace. If he could find it for one of them, then maybe there was hope for the other. He caressed the picture one more time, mumbled "I love you darlin'." like he always did and put it away again, hiding the emotions deep inside.

His gaze drifted out over the endless ocean again. He chose to believe that the salt on his lips was the sea and nothing else. His heavy head fell onto his knees, poorly sheltering him against the overwhelming tide.


	7. Chapter 7 - Under Your Skin

**A/N:** This is the last chapter [of this part of the story ;-)]. There is a short and somewhat goofy epilogue which will be posted shortly. Thank you all for reading, commenting and enjoying this tiny part of Alec's journey. Happy Halloween (if you celebrate it)!

* * *

" **Under Your Skin"**

 **Chapter 7**

Duncan was enjoying himself thoroughly. He couldn't understand Hardy's dislike for Broadchurch's locals because whoever he had met so far was lovely. They were more willing to talk than he'd expected from a small coastal town like this. Come to think of it, they were actually _very_ interested. In Hardy, not him. _Bollocks_ , maybe his friend was right after all in his assessment of his new community.

He eyed the bloke he was talking to more closely. His name was Brian and he worked in forensics. As soon as Brian had found out that Duncan was a friend of Hardy's, he started chatting him up, telling him how much of a hardarse his friend was as a boss. Somewhere in there was some acknowledgment that Hardy was actually a good detective, but when Brian mentioned the nickname that Hardy'd been given - DI Shitface - Duncan's usual lighthearted demeanor faltered.

"Shitface?" he echoed incredulously.

Brian smiled awkwardly. "He did look like it most of the time."

"Yah, because he's got a serious health issue. Glad you're not a doctor, your bedside manner stinks," Duncan admonished a blushing Brian.

"He could've said something," Brian muttered under his breath defiantly.

Duncan glared at him, doing his best to give Brian a Hardy-worthy death stare. It must have worked because Brian paled and walked away with a mumbled excuse of needing to find his girlfriend.

Duncan sighed. Brian did have a point though. Hardy should have told his colleagues how ill he was. Maybe they could have talked some sense into him.

 _Right_. Who was he kidding? Not even Ellie Miller could convince Hardy not to come back to work after his cardiac arrest. And she seemed to be the only person who he would have possibly listened to. _Stubborn wanker_.

Where was he anyway? Duncan scanned the crowd but he didn't see him. He noted Lucy Stevens dragging a teenaged boy with wet pants along, yelling at him. It must be Tom, Ellie Miller's boy.

He slowly circled the bonfire, searching the chatting and laughing groups of people. Not that Hardy was likely to be among them. He didn't believe in enjoying himself, the bloody knob. Duncan was getting more annoyed. If Hardy had ditched him and left, he was in for some bollocking.

A blonde middle-aged woman approached him.

"You're Alec Hardy's friend, right?" she asked. "I'm Maggie Radcliffe, editor of the _Broadchurch Echo_." She stuck out her hand.

A reporter. His dislike for the press wasn't as pronounced as Hardy's but he wasn't a friend of them either. Duncan nodded and accepted the greeting reluctantly.

"Duncan McCormick." She could hear the hesitation in his voice.

"Did Hardy's love for the press rub off on you or did you simply never like us?" Maggie asked teasingly.

Duncan grinned. He liked her straightforwardness. "Maybe a bit of both. He can get under your skin if you spend too much time with him."

Maggie chuckled. "I can see that. He's rather intense. How long have you known each other?"

Duncan tilted his head and smirked. "I'm not going to tell you anything about him. He would kill me if I did."

"Nah, you don't have to worry. He'd keel over first before he could do any harm," Maggie remarked sarcastically.

Duncan frowned. "This town has an odd way of making fun of people with serious health issues."

Maggie's expression changed. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to offend you. He usually responds well to snide remarks."

"He's good at pretending," Duncan mumbled, still fighting back his anger. Maggie took a step closer and put her hand on his arm.

"Maybe too good at times?" There was a question behind those words and Duncan wondered how much the woman knew about Hardy's past.

Duncan nodded silently, lost in his thoughts about the fall-out that the Sandbrook case had caused.

"You know, the reason why I came to talk to you was because I got a tad worried. Tom came back from the beach but Hardy didn't."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Duncan stood straight and she had all his attention now.

"I was talking to Hardy when he ran off to follow Tom Miller down the path to the beach. That was a while ago. Tom returned, all wet and scowling, but I haven't seen Hardy. Considering his heart condition, I felt concerned. Thought I'd let you know about it." She seemed truly worried and so was Duncan.

"Where's the path?" He was already moving before she could even point him into the right direction. He patted her shoulder quickly, muttered a "Thank you" and hurried towards the path.

The wind had picked up and rain clouds had moved in during the course of the evening. The light drizzle that had started while he was talking to Maggie had turned into thick drops. Duncan slid and stumbled down the gravelly path as fast as he dared in the dark and rain. His heart was beating fast in his chest, the worry over Hardy's fate fueling his anxiety. He tripped several times and when he finally reached the bottom, he was caked in mud and his best pair of pants had a big hole in the knee. Hardy better be half-dead of have a really good reason why he had pulled a stunt like this. Duncan was soaked and cold, despite the adrenaline rush that was surging through him.

The waves threw themselves against the shore driven by the wind and the high tide. The salty air clung to whatever part of him that wasn't wet yet. He tried to shield his eyes with his hand, searching the dark beach for Hardy.

In the end he almost tripped over him.

"Jesus, Alec. You bloody moron. What are you doing here?" Duncan shouted at the curled up figure of his friend.

Hardy was huddling in the sand, knees tucked up to his chest, head buried in between his legs. His dark pants and coat had camouflaged him well in the night. Hardy slowly lifted his head. His eyes were puffy and red. Or at least that's what Duncan assumed in the scant moonlight filtering through the clouds.

"He said, he hates her," Hardy breathed hoarsely. "Just like she did."

Duncan didn't need to think hard about who Hardy was referring to. He had no idea what triggered Tom's statement but he very well knew about Daisy.

Hardy's teeth were chattering and he was shivering. Duncan sighed.

"Why you always end up soaked and frozen next to bodies of water is a mystery to me. Especially as you hate the water so much."

Hardy shuddered in response. Duncan bent down and put his arms under Hardy's. He pulled him up easily, planting Hardy's thin body next to his broad form. He contemplated briefly to give Hardy his jacket but it was just as wet as Hardy's coat.

"Come on, let's get you home." His voice carried a fondness that had only grown stronger over the years. He slung his arm around Hardy's slender shoulders and they hobbled along through the wet sand and rain.

When they finally reached the blue shack, Duncan was dragging an utterly exhausted Hardy through the door. Yet again, he helped him strip out of his clothes, shoved him into the hot shower, helped him dry and get dressed, and tucked him in under a warm blanket on the sofa with a mug of steaming tea clutched in his hands.

Some color had returned to Hardy's face and he had stopped shivering. He was sipping his tea, staring ahead. He hadn't said a word since the beach.

"Alec, we have to talk. You can't do shit like this. What if I hadn't found you? You're not well enough to exert yourself by climbing up and down these cliffs and brooding in the rain on the beach," Duncan scolded his friend.

Hardy blinked. "He said, he hates me too. For taking his dad away," he whispered into his tea cup.

Duncan sighed. "Oh, Alec. You know he didn't mean it that way. He's a kid who's hurt and trying to make sense of this unthinkable event in his life."

Hardy raised his eyes. "And how do you know he didn't? How can I ever know if Daisy…" he trailed off, his words getting stuck in the back of his throat.

Duncan squeezed himself next to Hardy onto the sofa and put his arm around him. "Daisy will come around. She just needs time. And the truth, Alec," he added after Hardy's doubtful gaze met his.

Hardy set the cup onto the small coffee table and dragged his hands down his face. "'M not sure if I've got the time," he muttered almost unintelligible.

Duncan sat up straight. "What did you say?"

Hardy shook his head, pressing his lips together.

"You're a moron. I hate to be so blunt, but you are. Get that stupid heart of yours fixed and talk to your daughter," Duncan exclaimed, finally losing patience.

Hardy gaped at Duncan. Then he closed his mouth, shaking his head again, utterly at a loss for words. It was hard to see his friend so desperate.

"Alec, listen. I was planning on leaving tomorrow, but I can stay if you need someone to keep you company. I'll stick around for as long as you need me too." His offer was sincere.

Hardy's emotions played over his face. He didn't need to tell Duncan that he was afraid of being alone again. Then, after a long moment of struggling with himself, his expression took on the usual stoic look and he finally spoke.

"It's fine. You need to go back to your family and I need to sort out my life by myself. You're right, I can't always rely on someone finding me and putting me back on my feet." He found Duncan's eyes. "I promise I'm not going to do anything reckless."

He wore a sheepish face and for a split second Duncan wondered if Hardy was holding something back. He brushed the thought aside, not wanting to complicate things further.

"Good. I want you to call me, at least once a week and tell me how it's going. And I swear if I don't hear from you, I'll be back at your doorstep in no time. And this time I'll bring Ed Baxter."

The threat did its trick. Hardy seemed sufficiently intimidated to agree and Duncan believed him. He ushered him into bed and soon enough Hardy had drifted off. He stared at the still figure of his oldest friend, curled up around his pillow. He wished he could stay and watch over him until this nightmare was finally over because no matter how sincerely Hardy promised he would take care of himself, he never did. That's what he used to have a family for. To have someone to pull him away from the dark waters and take him home with them.

When Duncan closed the door quietly behind him, he wished more than anything that he at least had put Hardy on the right track. They'd found a place he could call his own. It was a start.

* * *

The next morning, Hardy woke up to his usual nightmare. He sputtered and coughed until he had settled down. He didn't want to think about the fact that Tom had found its way into his dreams as well.

He slowly stood up, padded to his bathroom and took his morning medications. His clothes were hanging up to dry. Hardy smiled at the image of Duncan fidgeting with his shirt and pants, but quickly sobered at the realization that his friend was leaving today. His eyes fell on his grey face in the mirror. He really didn't want to stay behind with just that to keep him company.

He turned abruptly and stalked to the kitchen. His fridge didn't hold any promising foods and he was out of milk. He threw the door shut and stared at it. Change was clearly necessary. A rap on his door jerked him out of his brooding thoughts.

It was Duncan, holding three big bags of groceries in his strong arms.

"Are you just gonna stand there and gape at me or help to get the stuff inside?" Duncan grumbled and kicked the door open with his foot. There were two more bags behind him.

Hardy watched him walk by, put down the groceries and go back for the next load.

"You could at least put some things away. Wouldn't want you to call me all the time about where I hid the Marmite."

Hardy gagged. His hand cupped his mouth to curb the strong urge to throw up. His already nauseated stomach couldn't even handle the idea of Marmite.

"That stuff is not going into my kitchen," he pressed through clenched teeth.

Duncan sniggered. "I'm only kidding, Alec. I know how you react to this." And he pulled out a jar with the dreaded yellow label and waved it in front of Hardy's face.

Hardy turned green. He sprinted to the bathroom and just about made it to the toilet.

"Oh, come on. Stop acting like a pregnant woman," Duncan hollered from the other room.

Hardy washed out his mouth and trudged back to the kitchen. He wordlessly took the jar, walked out the door to the waterfront and dropped it into the river. Then he proceeded to take all of his pills again after his stomach contents had been flushed down the sewers.

Duncan was still putting away various food items when Hardy plopped on a chair at the small table. He walked over to Hardy, a big grin on his face.

"Want some grapes instead?" He produced a bunch of beautiful green grapes from behind his back. Hardy snatched them from him, swiftly plucked a few off the stems and started throwing them at Duncan.

Duncan ducked and giggled. He caught a grape and shoved it into his mouth.

"They're delicious," he teased Hardy who was grinning from one ear to the other, rolling his eyes at him.

"Ellie Miller is taking Fred for trick or treating in Exmoor on Thursday night. You should keep her company," Duncan stated out of the blue.

Hardy froze, a grape in his hand. His arm fell to his side, heart rate rising.

"How do you know that?" he asked suspiciously.

"Lucy Stevens can be very talkative when promised a dance or two." Duncan grinned at Hardy's flushed face.

"Would you stop trying to play matchmaker for me and my former DS?" Hardy snapped at him.

"But my dear Alec, it's too tempting. You're rather endearing with your face all rosy and you getting flustered over the idea of going anywhere near her."

"Ach, stop it. She would throw something at you if she heard you," Hardy retorted.

"Precisely my point. She'd be perfect for you."

Hardy glared at his friend. Then he dropped his gaze, all lighthearted fun gone from his flushed face.

"It's really not what you think, Duncan. I'm lonely. She made me feel less like a pariah. Until she turned into one herself. She called us the former detective's club last time I talked to her." Hardy huffed and shot Duncan a quick daggered glance.

"Membership criteria are being shunned by your community, loss of job, a spouse that betrayed you and a child who hates you." His sarcasm was scathing.

"Alec stop -"

"No, Duncan. It's the reality and it's important to look at it and take it for what it is. There is nothing that connects me with this woman besides tragic circumstance. Not the best starting point for a friendship. And just because she came to me in a moment of despair doesn't mean she suddenly began liking me," Hardy ranted on.

Duncan sat down next to him, placing his hand on Hardy's. "And yet, you miss her," he said softly, his green eyes encouraging Hardy to accept the sentiment.

"I'm not sure if I miss her or more the feeling of not being lonely, of being needed by someone," Hardy confessed.

"Then go see her and find out." Duncan patted Hardy's hand and got up.

They put away the groceries in comfortable silence. It was time for Duncan to leave and Hardy's heart was heavy.

"I'm only a phone call away. Remember that. Eat your bananas, take your meds and stop brooding on the beach."

"Ach, shut it. I'm not a child." Hardy's voice was muffled against Duncan's chest while Duncan was dispensing another of his bear hugs to say goodbye.

"Could've fooled me." He grinned at Hardy's exasperated face. He quickly let go of Hardy and opened the gate. He halted and turned.

"If you should see Ellie Miller after all, tell her I've got a cup for her that would be perfect to be repurposed."

Hardy rolled his eyes and grunted in response. He listened to Duncan's laughter until it faded. His head dropped and he trudged over to the waterfront. The pinwheel was spinning in the sea breeze and the river was lapping against the stone wall. Hardy stared out over the glittering surface for a long time. Then he turned and walked back inside the little blue shack. He closed the door. Maybe his new home by this quiet river was the first step to coming back from the wild river that had taken so much of his life. He sure hoped so.

FIN


	8. Epilogue - A Typical Dumb Guy Thing

" **A Typical Dumb Guy Thing"**

 **Epilogue**

He thought about going while he was having tea on the steps of the blue shack in the morning. He dismissed it, leaving a bad taste in his mouth.

He thought about going while he was speaking the last sentences of his utterly boring lecture. He dismissed it, leaving him with an even bigger feeling of failure.

He thought about going while he was sitting in the taxi that took him to the cottage. He dismissed it, leaving him disgruntled with his own indecisiveness.

He thought about going while Claire was nagging him about wanting to go out for Halloween. He dismissed it, leaving him exhausted and worn out before the day was even half over.

He thought about going while he was sitting in the taxi taking him back to Broadchurch. He was about to dismiss it when he got a text from Claire ordering him to bring pumpkin pie for dessert that night. _Fuck it_ , he thought, and asked the driver if he'd minded a trip to Exmoor. He didn't.

A text to Claire telling her he won't be there for dinner and a fare negotiation later he found himself on the way to Devon, not knowing what to expect.

* * *

Hardy had the driver drop him off at the Exmoor Police Station. It was his best bet for finding Miller. He lurked at the corner for about half an hour, trying to figure out what to do. His cunning plan hadn't really reached passed the point of going to the station. Twice, he almost walked in asking for her but then his courage left him. He didn't have her address. _Hell_ , he didn't even know what her car looked like.

 _Think, Hardy, think_. He had to come up with something. His eyes landed on a group of teenaged girls, around Daisy's age. Or maybe they were older. They were all wearing costumes that did very little to be authentic but a lot to be as revealing as possible. Hardy had an idea. He slowly walked over to them, mulling over his words in his head. It was a shit plan but he had to try.

"Hello. Could I ask for a moment of your time?" He briefly flashed his police badge that when inspected more closely would have indicated his current position. The girls didn't bother to look properly, like nobody ever did. They shot each other some questioning glances but then nodded.

"I've got this friend. She's a traffic cop. I haven't seen her in a while and I wanted to play a Halloween prank on her," he began slowly. Their faces were skeptical.

He put on a smile and tried to think of something embarrassing. Like Claire _'accidentally'_ walking in on him taking a shower. He could feel the heat crawl up his cheeks and rubbed the back of his head. "Erm… she's not just a friend. I mean I hope not…" he trailed off, feeling truly embarrassed now about pretending to have different sentiments for Miller.

One of the girls giggled and another one gaped her mouth open, staring at him. The bravest one spoke.

"What do you want us to do?" she asked carefully.

"Which one of you got a driver's license?" The giggling girl's hand came up.

"What's your name?"

"Evelyn," she answered, her face turning a crimson red.

"Evelyn… that's a nice name." He smiled reassuringly and tried to leave any residual grouchiness behind. The girl giggled again and he wished it wasn't her who had the license but one of the more composed girls.

"What do you want her license for?" the girl who had spoken first interjected, stepping slightly in front of Evelyn. He liked her and the fact that she wasn't easily swayed by a badge and a smile. Daisy wouldn't have been either. She would have wanted him to be honest. And most likely would have had a better plan than him.

"Listen, I'm not quite sure what I'm doing, all I want is for my friend to come out to the front desk so I know she's at work. Thought Evelyn here could go in and tell the front desk that Ellie Miller wanted her to come in to show her license," he sighed, realizing how stupid that sounded.

"But then the front desk would have my friend's name. That's really not a good idea if you wanna play a prank on a police officer. And then what are you gonna do? Hang around the entrance and wait for her to come out?"

"Sort of," he mumbled, dropping his gaze. His face was burning.

"That's such a typical dumb guy thing to do," the girl stated with conviction. The others nodded in agreement.

"Why don't you just call her?" Hardy glared at the girl. She tilted her head and bit down on her lip. "Fine. I guess not then."

"Lily, I have an idea, " Evelyn chimed in. "I could go in and tell them I was asked to come to be a witness for an accident but that I only want to talk to her and nobody else. Wouldn't they have to call her?"

Hardy mulled that over. "How would you get out before she comes though?"

"I could distract the desk sergeant," Lily suggested reluctantly. "Still leaves you with having to stalk the entrance for the rest of the day. And what if she leaves through the parking garage?"

 _Bollocks_ , he hadn't even thought about that. Clearly, he'd make a shit secret agent. His resolve was quickly vanishing. Maybe this had all been a bad idea to begin with and he should have stayed in Broadchurch. He shoved his hands in his pockets and studied the pavement.

"It's all right. Should probably just call her," he muttered under his breath, surprised by the disappointment in his voice.

Lily searched his face. "Are you? Going to call her, I mean?"

"Dunno," he mumbled, kicking at a pebble.

"That's a no," Lily sighed. "It's great to see that men never change. Thought it was just teenaged guys but I guess I was wrong." He shot her a sideways glance. Daisy could have said that.

"Does your friend have kids?"

"Aye, a toddler and a teenager. Why?" It was Hardy's turn to be suspicious.

"Is she going trick or treating?"

"I believe so. With the wee one." Hardy had no idea where she was headed with that.

"There is only one neighborhood where everyone goes for it. Most people here think it's rubbish and won't participate. If your friend wants to take her kid, then she has to go there." She pulled out a piece of paper from her purse and scribbled down an address. She handed it to Hardy. "This is where everyone gathers. Around 5 o'clock. Good luck." Lily beamed and Hardy stood there with his mouth open, missing his daughter more than he ever had.

"Thank you." Hardy stared at the piece of paper in his hand and wasn't sure what else to say.

"You can buy us coffee," Lily ordered him with a big grin. The corners of his mouth curled up to a small smile.

"All right," he agreed, ignoring what he would think if he saw a sickly looking forty-something-year-old man buying coffee for a bunch of teenaged girls in skimpy costumes. At least this wasn't Broadchurch where by the next morning the whole town would have been wagging their tongues over it. They strolled over to the nearby coffee shop and he dropped a fortune on caffeinated beverages with stupid names.

* * *

Paying his informants though had been worth it. A couple of hours later, he found himself hovering at the edge of a large group of mostly mothers with their little children all dressed up and ready to conquer the world for candy. When he spotted Ellie Miller and her wee one - for the life of him he could not remember the name of the little boy - in the crowd, his stomach clenched and his heart stuttered.

Miller was chatting with another mother who also had a toddler strapped into a push chair. The conversation wasn't very long and the other woman quickly joined a group of happy families, wrapping her arm around her presumed husband's waist. Miller's smile faded as soon as she wasn't under scrutiny any more. Hardy squinted through the dim light. She looked thinner in the face and her hair was even messier than usual. Her clothes looked loose on her. She shoved her hands in her pockets and bent down to talk to the little boy.

Frank - or was it Fred? Or maybe Flynn? No not Flynn, Hardy shook his head - whatever his name was, he was dressed up as a bumble bee. The yellow of the costume clashed horribly with Miller's hideous orange windbreaker and the ridiculous contraption on his head that was supposed to be the antennas kept sliding down onto his disgruntled little face. Miller repeatedly tried to adjust them until she gave up and snatched them off his head with a groan that Hardy could hear across the street. They looked eerily similar, with their pouting faces, wild curls and brightly colored garments.

Hardy grinned and was gathering his courage to walk over when he almost got scared to death. Literally. A trio of half-grown witches jumped out from behind some bushes, yelling _'boo'_ and cackling at him. He jumped and his heart took a long pause. All the blood left his head, blackness closed in, and his legs gave out under him. He moaned and thudded against the tree next to him. The three witches froze, then looked at each other and scrammed as quickly as they had appeared, leaving a gasping Hardy behind. His heart stumbled back into a more reliable beat and he cursed under his heavy breath. When he looked up again he had lost sight of Miller.

 _Bloody children_. He searched the crowd but there was no trace of the yellow-orange pair. Something tugged on his pants.

"T'ick o' t'eat," a tiny voice said. He dropped his gaze and looked into the large brown eyes of a small girl, maybe five-years-old. She was dressed up in a cute fairy costume and was waving her wand in his face.

"'M sorry, I don't have any candy." He smiled at the girl who frowned in response. She poked him with the wand. It was surprisingly painful considering that she was so dainty.

"Oi, stop that," Hardy yelped.

"T'ick…" - she poked him again - "... o' t'eat." Her toothless grin was making Hardy think she wasn't such a cute little fairy after all.

"Where's your mother?" he asked sternly, putting all his parental authority in his voice. She poked him again, ignoring him just as much as Daisy had when she had set her mind on something.

Another child joined her, a boy the same age. He was a zombie, a good one, Hardy had to admit. "Does this one have candy?" he asked his companion, giving Hardy the cold shoulder.

"No," the fairy pouted, raising her wand again. Hardy grabbed a hold of it before she could have a go at his belly again. She wailed and Hardy sighed.

 _Great._

"Hey, what do you think you're doing? You should be ashamed of yourself," an angry adult voice hollered at him.

His head snapped around. "Excuse me?" he asked in disbelief. A woman hurried up to him and snatched the wand out of his hand.

"She's just a little girl trying to have fun," the woman growled, tugging her daughter close. The fairy stuck her tongue out at Hardy, safely hiding behind her mother's legs.

"She was poking me with -" Hardy began but never finished. He noted the little boy zombie-walk across the street without paying attention to anything around him, especially not the car that was approaching.

Without hesitation, Hardy shoved the woman and the fairy to the side and lurched onto the street, toppling the boy over. He followed him, carried by his own momentum and they both landed in the gutter on the other side. The car screeched to a halt where the boy had just stood. The boy scrambled to his feet, stared at Hardy and ran away. Hardy pulled himself up despite the growing pain in his chest.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" The fairy's mother rushed towards him, her face genuinely worried.

Hardy clutched his chest and grunted, "'M fine."

"You don't look fine, if you don't mind me saying. Did you hurt yourself?" She put her hand on his arm.

Hardy shook his head, focusing on breathing instead of small talk.

"You saved Jackson from getting hit by that car. Thank you." She sounded spooked and Hardy felt bad. He looked up and tried to smile. When the three witches used that opportune moment to repeat their performance from before, he couldn't take it any longer. His legs gave out and he fell heavily onto the dumbfounded woman.

"I'd call 999 if I were you," he croaked and then passed out.

* * *

Hardy woke blinking into the harsh light above. The familiar noises of A&E welcomed him. A cold feeling was creeping up his arm. He let out a big sigh, squinting down at his side. An IV trickled into his veins, delivering the life-saving medication. It had come down to this - he had been taken down by a bunch of kids in costumes. A resigned feeling settled in. He tried to sit up and almost slipped off the narrow stretcher.

"Hiya. How are you feeling?" a chipper nurse greeted him. Her scrub top sported a grinning pumpkin pattern that grated on Hardy's nerves.

"Spectacular," he grunted. He peeked under the gown, inspecting his chest. He was almost happy to find it unscathed by defibrillator burn marks.

"Ah, our hero is awake," a very familiar male voice remarked and Hardy shrunk. Ed Baxter was the last person who he wanted to see right now.

"Ed, what are you doing here?" he asked, voice rough.

"Emergency contact. Remember, you put me down as first person to be called." Baxter grinned from one ear to the other.

"For God's sake," Hardy muttered while dragging a hand over his face. A question popped up in his mind.

"How long was I out for?"

"Dunno. A few hours maybe. It's almost midnight. They are getting your bed ready."

Hardy couldn't have moved faster, sitting up and swinging his naked legs over the edge of the stretcher.

"There is no way in hell that I'm staying. I'm fine."

"You're ECG says differently," a female voice behind him chimed in. Hardy closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.

"Emily," he said, while letting out the air. Then with a death-stare at Baxter, he added, "Why did you bring her?"

Baxter studied his fingernails and shrugged. "Moral support?"

Hardy looked from one to the other. He would never live this down. He might as well give up now. He fell back onto the stretcher and huffed.

Baxter and Emily exchanged a surprised glance. "Seriously, you're not going to fight us on this?" He sounded almost disappointed. "I prepared an admonishing speech. Practiced it in the car ride down here. Ask Emily. All for nothing it seems." He shook his head. Emily pressed her lips together, poorly hiding a grin.

"What do want from me?" Hardy exclaimed in exasperation. "If I try to leave you give me shit, if I stay you do the same. Make up your bloody minds, for God's sake."

Baxter and Emily broke out in laughter.

"That's it. I'm taking you off the list of my emergency contacts," he cried, voice shifting an octave up.

Baxter was laughing so hard that he had to lean on Emily who was wiping tears away.

Hardy crossed his arms and pouted. "Not funny." He watched them try to put on serious faces and fail miserably. The corner of his mouth curled up. Baxter finally settled down enough to speak.

"Alec, we're just bull-shitting you. Emily convinced them hours ago to let you go as soon as you were awake," he confessed.

Hardy's mouth gaped open. He was speechless.

"It's Halloween, Alec. Gotta have a bit of a trick before the treat, right?" Baxter smirked.

"I've had enough of that today already. I deserve a treat," Hardy growled.

"We thought so too. But only the healthy kind," Baxter said and pulled a bunch of grapes out of a paper bag.

"How -" Hardy croaked, his voice deserting him.

Baxter dropped the grapes into Hardy's lap. "Duncan sends his love."

Hardy stared at the grapes. Then he picked them up, plucked one off the stem and put it in his mouth. They were seedless. A small smile played around his lips. Next time, he'd have a better plan.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you everyone again – for reading, commenting and being supportive. This was a rather silly ending to the story how Alec Hardy moved into his little blue shack. Thank you again, ktrosesworld for sharing your adventures and being an inspiration. My biggest thank you goes to HAZELMIST, not only for correcting my mistakes, but also for everything else. As Alec says "You're a star!"

Baxter and Emily sneaked into the story… once MHPS has progressed a bit more you'll realize why they deserve to tease Alec… my apologies to those who were hoping for more interaction between Alec and Ellie, but it's not time yet; I really, really thought about it though (and hazelmist advocated strongly for it), but canon is rather clear that they don't speak until she comes back and I didn't want to go against it. I promise to post the continuation of "The Ocean Breathes Salty" soon. Now back to writing more MHPS…


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